


A Film By Jensen Ackles

by ha5rika



Category: CW Network RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Blood and Violence, Bottom Jared, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Horror, M/M, Mental Instability, Minor Character Death, Mystery, Obsessive Behavior, POV Multiple, Rape/Non-con Elements, Stalking, Suspense, Thriller, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2015-07-14
Packaged: 2018-04-09 07:27:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 86,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4339361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ha5rika/pseuds/ha5rika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Acclaimed director Jensen Ackles is on a vacation with his best friend and the object of his unrequited affections, Hollywood’s heartthrob Jared Padalecki. </p><p>What could go wrong? Everything. </p><p>While vivid nightmares and daydreams make Jensen question his own sanity, the script of a horror movie starts mirroring real life and Jensen suspects that he and Jared are stuck with a serial killer in a cabin in the middle of the woods. Now with the clock ticking Jensen must find a way to save himself and Jared.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. ACT I

**Author's Note:**

> **Warning:** This work contains explicit fantasizing about committing rape, non-explicit attempted rape/non-con, people with mental illnesses, stalking and obsessive behaviour, lots of blood, gore and death. 
> 
> **Disclaimer:** This is purely a work of fiction. I do not claim to own or know the characters mentioned above. I am only borrowing their faces. The characters in this story do not, in any way, represent the actual people. 
> 
> **Author's notes:** This story was written for the [SPN J2 Big Bang 2015](http://spn-j2-bigbang.livejournal.com/). I got a chance to collaborate with an wonderful artist that I admire very much, [Sau1412](http://sau1412.livejournal.com/). She's not only been an awesome, patient and understanding collaborator but has also become a great friend. She created some beautiful pieces, way more than my story deserves, in such a short time. Go check out her art [here](http://sau1412.livejournal.com/18235.html) (warning: contains NSFW images) and leave her lots and lots of love.
> 
> Special thanks to [Alex](http://heartblowswild.livejournal.com/) who beta'ed the work and cheered me through the gruesome initial stages of writing with her loving comments and feedback. I edited a few bits after she worked on it so any remaining mistakes are mine alone.
> 
>  
> 
> **  
> [PDF (NSFW) / ](https://www.dropbox.com/s/i1emlceukzesgru/A%20Film%20By%20Jensen%20Ackles.pdf?dl=0)  
>  [PDF (SFW)](https://www.dropbox.com/s/tej05j430i966fl/A%20Film%20By%20Jensen%20Ackles%20%28SFW%29.pdf?dl=0)  
>  **

 

 

 

**Scene 1**

 “Very few people have a true rags to riches story, Jensen. How does it feel to be one of those few?”

“I am humbled and very grateful to my fans for bringing me where I am today. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for them.”

“What was your relationship with Jared like, when you were younger?”

“We’ve always been close. He’s been my best friend since we were little kids.”

“What’s it like now? There are rumors that two hate each other.”

“And they are all just rumors, nothing more. Jared and I are still very close. He’s my biggest supporter and I’m his.”

“There are talks of an Oscar nomination for Jared. What are your thoughts on that?”

“I’d be very happy for him if he is nominated. There’s no one who deserves it more.”

“Do you have any comments about Jared dating model Sandra McCoy? They were photographed together in Hawaii this weekend. Why do you think he kept his relationship with her private?”

Jensen’s eyes dart towards his assistant for a moment, signaling that he is done with the bullshit. He grits his teeth and answers the question. “No, I have nothing to say about that. Jared and I are very private people and we like to keep our personal life away from the spotlight.”

“That’s it for now! Thank you so much,” Danneel says, louder than necessary, drawing the reporter’s attention to herself before the guy could ask any more questions. Jensen takes the chance and gets to his feet, ignoring the man. Danneel ushers the reporter out even before he could vocalize his protests about 5 minutes of his time being left.

It wasn’t like Jensen didn’t like doing press. He did. But more often than not he is asked the same questions over and over again, all having to do with his friendship with Jared and his initial success. _Talk about the current project, you idiot_. Sometimes when Jensen is patient he even answers questions about him and Jared in detail.

Jensen might even narrate the story of how he and Jared lived in a tiny, shitty apartment when they first came to LA. He will tell the reporter that Jared and he juggled 3 to 4 jobs at any given time and that there were days when they had to go to bed hungry. He will tell the guy how he and his best friend spent countless hours doing nothing and everything, working their asses off as PAs, on movie sets. He will tell them how happy he felt when he was first approached for his script and asked to direct the said script. He might even tell them that even though he couldn’t afford to lose such a golden chance, he had refused to do the movie if Jared didn’t star in it.

Today is not one of those days.

Jensen breathes out a sigh of relief as the silence of the sound proofed room engulfs him. He is bone tired, ready to collapse. How long has it been since he slept? Jensen shrugs to himself, figures it doesn’t matter. He has work to do, can’t sleep now. If only he could concentrate on his work, then maybe he’d be able to finish it in time. Then he could sleep. Otherwise his mind will keep him awake, never letting him take a moment’s rest.

The problem was, Jensen couldn’t concentrate. He had other things on his mind. Other people on his mind.

Being a hot shot director in Hollywood always came with its perks – vacations in Tahiti and Mystique, houses – no, mansions – in the richer areas of Beverly Hills and villas in France, fucking VIP treatment and entrance into the most exclusive clubs of LA. Jensen had the best money could buy. He wore designer clothes, ate food that had names too complicated to remember, had at least 10 people at his beck and call at all time. He went to bed at night, rolling in silk sheets with a hot, naked chick or dude underneath him. Life was good for Jensen Ackles.

And if all those faceless bodies of the people he fucked were a piss poor substitute for someone else? Well you couldn’t always have everything, right? Besides, if Jensen never thought about it, he could convince himself that he enjoyed the playboy lifestyle. Hey, he managed to convince everyone else now, didn’t he?

Jensen shuts his eyes and tries to will away the painful images of his best friend playing tonsil hockey with a blonde bimbo. Sometimes Jensen wonders if he is a masochist. Nothing else could explain why he clicked a link that read “Who is Jared Padalecki’s hot new girlfriend?” Yeah, he reads the trashy magazines and gossip websites. Sue him.

A headache slowly forms at the base of Jensen’s skull. He decides he is way too sober to deal with Jared’s man-whore ways and heads to the mini bar in his office. Jensen knows he sounds like a hypocrite. Hell, Jensen almost never sleeps with the same person for more than three times unless they got killer blowjob skills. So, he is in no position to judge Jared. But, when it comes to his best friend, Jensen could be a jealous bitch.

Being in love with your straight male best friend sucks.

Before Jensen could drown in the sweet numbness whiskey provided, his phone starts playing ‘Hit me baby, One more time’. “Fucking Jared!” Jensen mutters under his breath. He is just happy his phone didn’t belt out Britney Spears when he was with the interviewer. He could imagine the headlines. “Jensen Ackles – Closet Britney Spears fan.”

Jensen thumbs the phone on, cutting out Britney before she can start up the chorus. He doesn’t even manage to get out a ‘hello’ before the voice on the other end of the line starts speaking. “Beer and bong at your house. 7pm.”

“Why, hello to you too, Jared,” Jensen says, suddenly not feeling so down anymore. “What was that? You are asking me if I’m free this evening. Oh, too bad, my man. I am busy.”

“Cancel it, asshole,” Jared says easily. The bastard knows Jensen would cancel an emergency heart surgery if Jared asks him to do it.

“Dude it isn’t the weekend,” Jensen says. “Actors like you get to laze around all week and shoot for maybe 5 months a year. Directors actually need to work, you know.”

“Hey, we are the face of the industry. Even when we aren’t shooting, we work. These stellar looks don’t come easy.” Jared sounds a little out of breath. He must be at the gym.

“Yeah, I heard that,” Jensen says. “The producer of your last movie almost had a heart attack after seeing your makeup bill, didn’t he?”

“Shut up, jerk,” Jared grunts but, there isn’t any heat behind those words. “You really got work this evening? Or are you blowing me off for a blow job?”

“Why do you want to spend time with me all of a sudden, anyway?” Jensen asks instead. “Thought you were busy fucking your way through the states and that Hawaii was your latest conquest.” Jensen tells himself he doesn’t sound like a bitter ex-girlfriend. Even he knows he is full of shit.

“Somebody’s got their panties in a twist,” Jared says. But, then all teasing leaves his voice and he sounds concerned. “Had a call from People’s magazine?”

“US Weekly.” Jensen sighs. He gives up trying to stay mad at Jared. He knows that he is angrier at himself than at Jared. “I just don’t get why everyone wants us to hate each other so desperately.”

“I guess a rivalry between the hot new director and the rising star would be much better gossip fodder than a strong friendship,” Jared says, sounding more mature than he had during their entire conversation. “They are just trying to sell magazines, Jen.”

“I’d have thought they had enough fodder with you running half-naked along the Pacific coast,” Jensen mutters. Those pictures he saw on _Just Jared_ had been Jensen’s go-to jerk off material for a week now. Yeah, Jensen might be a creep but you try to resist Jared Padalecki when he is wearing nothing but a pair of shorts that seemed to be ready to drop off his hips at any moment. Damn, those muscles…

Jensen cuts the train of thought before he pops a boner like a fucking teenager. He almost misses Jared’s “I needed to frolic.”

“How about we just have some beer and steak and watch a movie?” Jared asks. He doesn’t seem to be exercising anymore but, Jensen can hear the rustle of a soft towel. He imagines Jared wiping the sweat off his brow and chest.

“Why the sudden domesticity?” Jensen asks, sounding tired. It’s not that Jensen doesn’t want to spend time with Jared. He does. He just doesn’t think he can handle having Jared for an evening only to have him head to a club and hook up with a random chick the next day. Jensen gets invited to tag along with Jared too. But, even he isn’t masochist enough to watch Jared shamelessly flirt with all the girls that throw themselves at him.

“I just miss you, Jen,” Jared says, softly – so softly that Jensen almost misses the words being spoken.

Jensen agrees to meet up with Jared at his house at 6 and tells his friend that he better bring a six pack. He doesn’t stop grinning the whole day.

**Scene 2**

 Ben Edlund had been in the business long enough to know that the story you write and the story that gets put on film were completely different ones. He had long stopped feeling bitter when the story he put his blood and sweat into is twisted, torn and turned into a commercial piece of shit. He knew that that was how the industry worked. The characters and the emotional journey they go through don’t matter as long as you have stars like Tom Cruise, half-naked chicks and plenty of car chases. That was the way it was.

Needless to say, he was pleasantly surprised when he worked with Jensen Ackles. The young director wasn’t one for commercial success. He didn’t care about the money or stick to the generic movie making formula. When he contacted Ben for his “What Is and What Should Be” script, he had made it perfectly clear that he wished Ben to work closely with the project.  Jensen had done a great job with the movie, preserving the emotional punch of the script and the movie had gone on to receive many Oscar nominations.

During the making of the project, Ben and Jensen had grown close and Ben had begun to think of Jensen like a son even though the director was only 15 years younger than him. It was only natural for Ben to invite Jensen to his home in LA for lunch 2 months after they had finished their work on “What Is and What Should Be”.

“Working on anything new?” Jensen asks after lunch as they settled the sunroom.

“Not right now,” Ben answers. “I’m on a break.”

“But, if you are working on something, I would be the first to know, right?” Jensen asks lightly.

“Of course,” Ben says. That was the truth. After having such a good experience while working with Jensen the last time Ben would surely have given Jensen first pick when it came to his best story ideas.

“How’s Maria?” Jensen asks, his eyes wandering over to the bookshelves under the large bay windows.

“Working hard on making me bankrupt,” Ben says. “She has a newfound fascination with diamonds these days.”

Jensen throws his head back and laughs. “Better not refuse her, Ben. Or you’ll end up in the dog house for a month.”

Ben fakes a shudder. “I know. Enough about me. How are you doing? Found a girl who holds your eye?”

Jensen’s smile drops and turns fake. “Nah, I’m enjoying being single.”

Ben wants to push. He has come to love Jensen as a son and he is worried about the young man. Though Jensen lives a life that most people would sell their souls for, Ben knows that Jensen is unhappy. He can see it in the man’s eyes. Ben doesn’t know what exactly it is that is bothering the young man but, he can take a wild guess and say that it is a matter of the heart.

But, like every other time Ben brought up Jensen’s personal life, Jensen deflects the question. “Hey, what is that book over there?” he asks pointing to a bound book under the bay window.

Ben sighs. He knows there will be no use trying to get Jensen to talk about his personal life. Ben follows the young man’s gaze and frowns when he sees what book Jensen in looking at. The leather bound book that Jensen was referring to had seen better days. But, now it is weathered and damaged at the edges, most of its pages turning yellow.

“That is just a… script. Nothing of importance,” Ben says, shaking his head, not taking his eyes off the book.

Jensen must have noticed the change in Ben’s demeanor and turns to face Ben. “A script? What is it about?”

“Something about demons and monsters, I think,” Ben says. His voice comes out more gruff and irritated than he likes.

“Ben, what is it?” Jensen asks, frowning in concern now.

Ben reluctantly turns to Jensen, not wanting to take his eyes off the book. He doesn’t know what it is about that book but, it creeps him off every time he looks at it. He thought he had his assistant throw the damn thing in the dumpster. _What the hell is it still doing here_ , Ben thinks. A chill runs up Ben’s spine and suddenly the room’s temperature drops by a degree. A cold sweat breaks over Ben’s forehead and Ben raises a shaking hand to wipe it off, heart beating a mile a minute in his chest.

“Ben, are you okay?” Jensen asks, leaning over the coffee table. “You look pale, man.”

Ben shakes his head, minutely. _Get a hold of yourself_ , he tells himself. “The book creeps me out,” he blurts out before he can stop himself.

Jensen stares blankly at Ben for a while and Ben cruses his stupid mouth. He has no idea what made him blurt out such a thing. It was the truth, yes. But, he didn’t want to be the crazy write who got scared by the script about monsters. Such things only happened in horror movies. Before Ben could back track his words, Jensen speaks.

“Can I take a look at it?”

“What?” Ben sputters.

“I am looking for a new project to work on. Can I take a look at the script?” Jensen asks.

“Why would you want to see it?”

“Because it scared you,” Jensen replies. There is no judgment in his tone, for which Ben is grateful. “If the script was scary enough to creep you out, it must be good. And I want to dip my toes in the horror genre this time.”

Ben’s breathing evens out and the chill that had seeped into his blood disappears. “I don’t know if I got scared because of how good the script was. In fact, it is actually a love story. I mean, yeah, it has got horror elements in it but the relationships are the focus of the story.”

“Why would that be a bad thing?” Jensen asks with a thoughtful frown on his forehead. “Think about it, Ben. All the scary movies that come into the theatres rely on jump scares and cheap thrills. There is no emotional impact in most of those stories. But, if this script can scare you without being scary on the forefront while focusing on the emotions of the characters? What more could you ask for?”

Ben knows Jensen’s got a point. He does. But, somehow the thought of that script being made into a movie makes his knees go weak. “I haven’t read the whole thing, so I can’t say if it is good,” he tries one last time.

“I’m not working on any projects right now so I can give it a read. I don’t mind,” Jensen says with a shrug of his shoulders.

Ben sighs, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “Sure.” He waves a hand in the direction of the bay window, wordlessly asking Jensen to help himself.

Jensen gets up and movies out of Ben’s line of vision. Ben drops his head into his hands and tries to relieve the pressure in his skull by rubbing at his forehead. For a while the world fades into the background. It’s all just white noise. But, it isn’t the good kind where your mind just drifts off. It is the scary kind where you hear the screams of tortured souls ringing in your ears.

A hand lands on his shoulder and Ben almost jumps out of his skin, letting out a low pitched scream. Jensen pulls his hand back like he had been burned, staring at Ben with wide eyes. “Jeez, man! Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s all right,” Ben says, though his labored breath tells him how not all right he is. “I was just… Sorry, Jensen. I don’t think I’ll be good company any longer.”

“It’s okay. You look like you are coming down with something,” Jensen says. Ben can see the concern written clearly on his friend’s face. “Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you to the hospital or something?”

Ben shakes his head, internally berating himself for acting like a scared 5 year old. “No, I’ll be fine. I just need to rest up.”

“Sure. I’ll get out of your hair,” Jensen says. “Call me if you need anything, will ya? Maria is going to skin me alive if you get sick on my watch.”

That pulls a small smile out of Ben. “You scared of my wife?”

“Hey, that lady knows how to work a knife. I’ve seen her in the kitchen. I don’t know about you but, I’m never getting on her bad side.”

“I wouldn’t either,” Ben says with a weak chuckle. But, already he is feeling much better. Ben catches a glimpse of the book in Jensen’s hand and the rope that had been choking his throat loosens a little. _I’m finally getting rid of that thing_ , Ben thinks. He doesn’t even feel guilty about giving that creepy thing to his friend.

“Let me walk you outside,” Ben says and together the writer and the director make their way to Jensen’s car. They talk a little more about the new big projects in the industry and try to guess which ones are going to get an Oscar nod this year. Jensen makes Ben promise once more to check in and to call Jensen if he needs anything before he leaves the house.

Ben stands on the porch and watches Jensen walk towards his car, the book in his hands. The phantom weight that had been suffocating Ben every time he had entered his LA home slowly lifts off. Ben doesn’t even pretend to think that it has nothing to do with the book Jensen’s holding.

Right before he gets into his car, Jensen turns around. “Hey, Ben, what is this story about?”

“Two brothers who take a cross country road trip, hunting demons, ghosts and monsters, I think,” Ben answers in an emotionless tone.

Jensen nods, seemingly pleased with the concept. “I’ll see you later, man,” the director says getting into his car.

As Jensen drives away, Ben barely resists saying _don’t bring the book with you_. When he enters the house and shuts the door behind himself, Ben swears he can feel the book’s presence, like it was huge piece of furniture or something. And for the first time, Ben acknowledges the reason why he never likes spending time in this house. He knows why his nightmares, when in the house, are always plagued by fire, banshees and monster books.

Ben calls his realtor and by the end of the day Ben is on a plane to New York, his house in LA up for sale.

**Scene 3**

  There’s a slight chill in the air. Jensen rubs his palms together, warming them up. The thermostat must be broken.

The clock reads 6:15. The pizza Jensen ordered is on the coffee table, one piece half bitten into, and turning cold. Jensen hoped Jared would be here by now.

There was a time when he and Jared didn’t needed to _make_ plans to hang out, they just did. That was a time before red carpet events, press interviews, promotional tours and shooting dates.

This was what Jared and he worked hard for their whole lives.

The house is quiet. A clock ticks away, mindless of Jensen’s inner musings and the washing machine runs in the basement. Jensen sits in the silence, still as a corpse, a ghost in his own house, lifeless and invisible.

Jensen doesn’t keep many pictures on the walls of his house, prefers to decorate them with art pieces instead. They capture cinematic shots from legendary movies, as lifeless and still as Jensen. The one photo that manages to stay on the wall, sticking out like a sore thumb, is a picture of him and Jared, taken when they were teenagers. They stand on the beach, shoulder to shoulder, hands around each other. The sun beats down on their faces, turning Jensen’s hair blond, bringing Jared’s dimples out in full force.

They had barely a dime in their pockets and so many dreams to chase but their smiles came as easy as a saint’s blessings.

Jensen had just graduated high school. He could have gone to college but he promised Jared that he would wait. He fixed cars during the day and tended bars during the nights. Every free moment in between, when he wasn’t with Jared, he spent working, saving most of the money he earned. By the time Jared had graduated, he had enough saved for them both to move to LA.

Jared wanted to help too, insisted on taking part time jobs. But Jensen didn’t let him do more than work at a diner after school hours. He wanted to let the kid be a kid for a little while longer, without the responsibilities and burdens weighing his bony shoulders down. 

 _Bony!_ Jensen huffed out a laugh at that. That used to be a time when Jared was a kid with shaggy hair and too long limbs that he had no control over. Back then Jared was Jensen’s responsibility; whether it was a problem with bullies at school or questions about how to kiss a girl, Jensen was the one Jared came to. That used to be a time when Jared looked up to Jensen, both literally and figuratively, with full on hero worship in his eyes.

All that changed sometime in the past 11 years when Jensen wasn’t looking. Jared was no longer the scrawny, clumsy kid who followed Jensen everywhere. He was a grown man, independent and successful. He had turned from that adorable kid that had Jensen wrapped around his pinky finger to a walking wet dream that still had Jensen wrapped around his little finger. Gone were the days when Jared was shy, blushing furiously if a girl so much as smiled at him. Jensen missed that kid sometimes.

Jensen drops his head into his hands and runs his fingers through his short, gelled hair. He’s wasting time. He’s sitting around doing nothing. His feet bounce in place, restless energy thrumming through him. He should be working, doing something, anything other than thinking. Jared’s probably bailed on him and Jensen’s not going to call him to ask him what changed his plans. There’s still some pride left in him after all.

If Jensen was hungry before he’s lost his appetite. He finds himself in his study, settling in with the script he got from Ben’s house. Gotta get some work done.

Once Jensen puts the leather-bound book on the table and opens it all thoughts of Jared and _alone_ leave his mind. There was something about the book that drew Jensen’s sight in when he spotted it in Ben’s sunroom. The way Ben looked when Jensen asked him about it, almost like a cornered animal, piqued his interest. Surely the story must have been good if it had gotten such a reaction out of Ben.

The book is bound in brown leather; its pages yellowed and dog eared. The spine has many, too many, creases on it. Jensen opens the book and is surprised to find that it doesn’t have a title or specify the author’s name. The first two pages are empty with spots that look like wine stains covering the surface. Jensen flips through the first few pages and sees that the script was hand-written. His eyebrows climb to his hairline in surprise. In the age of computers people barely wrote shopping lists anymore much less an entire movie’s script. Interest spiking with each minute, Jensen starts reading the script. He opens the third page and finds it empty save for the single line written in neat font.

_Remember John, never talk to strangers!_

“Well, that was a weird start,” Jensen mutters. The quote is nothing new. Jensen has seen tricks like this in many movies. It was a cliché, really – a single line of ominous text in white against a black background that slowly fades away into the silence. It is meant to set the mood or act as a pre-prologue of sorts. Jensen always thought it was stupid. When you are working with a medium like the film, in which you can literally _show_ not _tell_ , why use something as boring as text?

But when Jensen reads the line, a chill creeps up on his spine and he is suddenly aware of the silence around him, like it a physical presence lurking in the shadows, waiting to grab him. He shakes his head a little to get rid of the stupid thoughts in his head. Jensen stares at the words for few moments, trying to figure out why they were able to catch his attention.

In contrast to all other times Jensen had read such words on screen, the words are written in black against a light background. The pages were clearly white once. Now they were a sickly brownish in color giving the impression that the pages were decades old. The quote wasn’t from Bible or a popular book or a psychiatrist’s thesis. It was a quote from the movie Dark City. The line was simple, straightforward, but creepy for some reason that Jensen couldn’t put his finger on. The words were written carefully, each turn and twist made with precise movements. The love that was put into writing the words makes the message look even more sinister for some reason.

Unable to help himself, Jensen runs his finger over the words. The paper is crisp and sandpaper dry to the touch. The words themselves are smooth and cool, the paper indented a little when the nib pressed into it. His fingers trail over to the rest of the blank page, as if in a daze, and Jensen feels how the area covered in stains is a little coarser. Jensen wonders what wine the writer was drinking when they wrote the words. What caused them to spill the glass over the pages? It must have been a lot of wine because almost all the pages are stained.

Jensen looks closer, something about the rough texture beneath his fingertips drawing him in, and realizes that the wine marks are layered. It wasn’t just a single spill that did this. Jensen leans in even closer. _There’s something wrong here_ , he thinks. The stains were too brown to be wine stains. The marks were faded at the center but darker on the edges. It looked like… like…

_Dried blood…_

A piercing, agonized cry rings out from the somewhere in the house, shaking the very marrow of his bones, causing Jensen to jerk in his chair. “Fuck!” Jensen hurries to push off from the table, his knee colliding with the underside of the table, puts as much distance as he can from the book, his back hitting the wall behind him. His limbs are shaking, hands shivering, eyes wide in shock and fear, heart jack hammering in his chest.

Jensen stares at the book, too stunned to move a muscle. The shrill cry continues to ring in his ears, everything else a background noise. Only now Jensen knows that it isn’t a cry at all. It’s the door bell ringing.

“Fucking hell!” Jensen pants out, a hand on his chest, the other wiping the sweat off his clammy forehead. He bends in half, trying to catch his breath and get some oxygen into his brain while whoever it is at the door continues to abuse the bell. When his hands and legs stop shaking, Jensen straightens, shuts the book with more force than strictly necessary and leaves the study. He won’t admit it, even to himself, but he is afraid to turn around to even close the door. He feels eyes on his back, clawing and tearing at the skin, prickling the hair on the back of his neck, and he is scared of what he will find if he looks back.

By the time Jensen reaches the door his visitor had abandoned the doorbell and was now trying to bring down the door with their fists. “I’m coming!” Jensen yells, with only a slight waver in his voice. He removes the deadbolt and yanks the door open, almost getting a fist in his face.

Jared stood on the front porch, his first frozen in midair, looking sexy as hell in his threadbare t-shirt and jeans that are basically a second skin. His soft hair is windswept, casually styled to look disheveled, and Jensen’s fingers ache to touch the strands. Jared looks good, even better than he did in the glossy magazine pictures, eyes shining and dimples carved into his cheeks.

When he sees Jensen, though, Jared’s smile melts off and his brow scrunches up in concern. “Are you okay, Jensen?” Jared asks, moving into Jensen’s personal space with no regard for boundaries. His fist that is still hanging in the air opens and he puts his open palm to Jensen’s forehead, touching Jensen’s cheeks and neck, trying to get a temperature reading. His other hand, curls around Jensen’s bicep and Jared is _so close,_ Jensen can smell his aftershave clear as day.

Jensen pushes at his chest with his fist and takes a step back, when it’s the last thing he wants to do. Being so close to his best friend slash crush was messing with his already fucked up head.

“I’m fine,” Jensen grunts, turns around and heads into the living room, leaving a confused Jared on the doorstep. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh… I told you I was coming over, remember?”

Shit! Jensen completely forgot. Which was stupid because how the hell did that bloody book manage to shake him up so badly that he’d forgotten about Jared?

“Jen, are you okay?” Jared’s voice sounds too close to Jensen’s comfort. He plops down on the couch, suddenly exhausted.

“Yeah, man. I just didn’t think you’d show up. It’s past 7 and you were supposed to be here at 6.”

Jared frowns. “Jensen, it’s 6:15,” he says.

“Are you high or something?” Jensen snarls. He points to the digital clock on the fireplace. “Look! Its quarter past sev-” Jensen’s voice dies off mid syllable when he sees that the clock is reading 6:16.

“Dude, seriously, you look like you are coming down with something,” Jared says, sitting in front of Jensen on the coffee table, his knees touching Jensen’s. Jensen gets a vague sense of déjà vu when he remembers the words he told Ben earlier that day. _You look like you are coming down with something._

Jensen shakes his head. “Nah, I’m good. I was dozing off and got startled when you rang the doorbell,” Jensen says, the lies spilling out easily. Sometimes he feels bad that he can lie to Jared so easily, but in the end it was always for Jared’s good – _I’m not hungry, Jare, you should have the last bite_ – so he lets it slide.

Jared doesn’t look convinced. _The kid is getting better and better at picking up on my lies_. But thankfully Jared doesn’t push. “’Kay. If you say so…”

He still looks concerned and Jensen tries to distract him. “When did you get back to LA? Thought you were cruising in Hawaii.”

Jared hesitates a little before answering. “My plane landed yesterday. I have some promotional work to wrap up.”

Jensen nods. “What about Candy? Is she here?”

“Her name is Sandy,” Jared says, amusement glittering in his eyes. “And no, we broke up.”

Jensen snorts. “Dude, you have to be in a relationship before you can break it up.”

“Who has time for relationships, Jen?” Jared says with a wave of his hand. “It’s better this way.”

He knows he shouldn’t feel that way but it feels like Jared is saying he doesn’t have time for Jensen.

Then Jared says, “You know what I do have time for? Kicking your ass at Madden,” and Jensen’s whole world lights up. He feels warmer than he had the whole evening.

**Scene 4**

 “Man, ’m soooo wasted,” Jared declares, burping loudly for emphasis. He grins stupidly at Jensen, like Jensen’s face is the funniest thing ever.

“You said you had work t‘morrow,” Jensen slurs, his last beer bottle still hanging from his fingers. They are lounging in Jensen’s living room, beer bottles scattered all around them. Tequila, shot glasses, salt and pickle from when Jared got the amazing idea to do shots lie on the mahogany coffee table. Well, Jared wanted to do body shots but Jensen knew that drinking and a shirtless Jared were a bad combination. So he had refused. There is box of half finished mushroom pizza on the floor, long dried and forgotten in favor of booze and chips.

“Gonna skip it,” Jared says, his Texan accent coming through. He takes a deep breath, seemingly sobering for a moment. “I miss this, Jen,” he says seriously, looking straight into Jensen’s eyes.

“I miss this too,” Jensen says honestly.

Jared is sitting on the floor beside Jensen’s legs and his head lolls towards him, seeking out the warmth, his cheek resting on Jensen’s kneecap. He puts a hand on the nape of Jared’s neck, fingers running through the baby curls there. Tomorrow, he’ll blame it on the tequila but for now Jensen wants to enjoy having Jared so close to him.

There’s grease on his face from the pizza, his fingers are sticky and he feels fat and ugly, nothing like the hot new director everyone makes him out to be. The TV is playing an info-commercial, the Bruce Willis movie they were watching ended a long time ago. His living room is untidy enough to give his housekeeper a heart attack. He has stale, onion-breath and Jensen can practically taste the killer hangover he’ll be having tomorrow.

But he can hear the waves crashing on the shore outside his oceanfront house; can see the full moon and the soothing darkness outside through the French mirrors in his living room. He can feel Jared’s warmth plastered to his leg; feel the smooth texture of his chestnut hair. He feels relaxed and loose, like he hasn’t in a long time. He feels foolishly happy and content in his chest. Life is good, Jensen decides.

“We should go to the cabin,” Jared, the idiot, says, breaking the calming silence and stillness that had set in the house.

“Sure,” Jensen is well familiar with Jared’s drunken ramblings and ideas by now.

“No, Jensen, for serious.” Jared lifts his head off Jensen’s knee and turns around to look at Jensen better. Jensen misses his warmth instantly. “We haven’t hung out in a long time,” he continues, sounding a little sober now. “We should go to the cabin, take a few days off from work and the media.”

Jensen sighs. “Can’t Jared. Working on a new project. And I got – ”

“Dude! I have stuff to do as well. But we promised, Jen. We promised we would never let work get between us. I miss you, man.”

Jared is looking at him with wide, watery eyes, his lips turned down in a frown. He’s got his hands wrapped around Jensen’s waist like he is holding Jensen down, stopping him from leaving. Jared looks so utterly lost, like a kicked puppy. He reminds Jensen of the little kid that he used to be; the little kid that used to think that Jensen was the second coming just for telling his bullies off. Jensen could never refuse that little kid anything – not that he could refuse the grown-up Jared when he pulled out the puppy eyes.

Damn! He shouldn’t have given Jared tequila. Tequila always made the kid emotional and handsy.

“Fine!” he said, in an exhale. Taking the decision wasn’t as hard as Jensen was making it seem. Though Jensen protested, said he had to work, deep down the idea of going to their cabin in the woods appealed to him very much. “We’ll go to the cabin, spend a week there. Now quit doing the puppy eyes.”

The change was instant. Jared’s lips curve into a wide smile, his crater-deep dimples making an appearance. His eyes shine and his face positively glows with happiness. “Thank you, Jensen,” he says, hugging Jensen’s lap, like Jensen had just given him the best Christmas present.

“Sure, buddy,” Jensen says, patting the top of Jared’s head and pushing him away at the same time. Jared’s face was way too close to Jensen’s crotch and his stupid body, not realizing that Jared was just being his drunk, handsy self, was reacting to the touch.

Jared lifts his head off Jensen’s lap and looks at him like he had hung the moon. The expression was a constant during their childhood, the kid always looking at Jensen with adoration and admiration. “We’ll leave tomorrow,” Jared says. “I’ll go to bed now. You should too. We got work to do tomorrow, miles to go.”

With that he gets off the floor, heading to towards the stairs, to the guest bedroom. As he passes the back of the couch, he leans in, puts his lips close – too close – to Jensen’s ear and says softly, “Thank you, Jensen.” He sounds so sincere and decidedly un-drunk. Soft bow lips touch Jensen’s temple in a brief kiss as long, delicate fingers lightly caress his jaw line. Jared is off, before he can react, disappearing up the stairs, leaving Jensen gaping at his retreating back.

Jensen sits there for long, agonizing minutes, staring at the stairs where Jared had disappeared. He wonders if Jared was onto him, if he knew about Jensen’s feelings – if teasing Jensen like this, giving him a brief taste of what he could have and snatching it back, was his way of saying, “Fuck you.”

Even as he thinks that, Jensen knows it isn’t true. Jared would never do something as cruel as that and he certainly wouldn’t do that to Jensen. And yet, Jensen suddenly feels cold and bitter, left with a taste of ashes in his mouth. Jensen finally tears his eyes from the stairway, lying down on the couch. He doesn’t have the energy to go up the stairs to his bedroom, wanting to be as far away from Jared as possible. He turns off the table lamp, deciding to spend the night in the living room.

He curls into himself, feeling disgusting and gross, something dark and angry uncurls.

There is a slight chill in the air, not like the comforting coolness Jensen was imagining earlier when he was looking at the ocean outside. Jensen curls deeper into the back of the couch, making a mental note to check the thermostat in the morning.

The mansion is dead silent, except for the tick-tock of the clock and the hum of the washing machine working in the basement. It’s like everything else except the clock and the washing machine have stopped moving. Jensen couldn’t even hear the waves washing over the shore. Just tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock.

Tick tock

Tick tock

The sound begins to pull Jensen into a restless sleep, filled with fire and heat and fear.

Tick tock

Tick tock

Jensen growls in irritation, willing his mind to shut up and push the sounds out. The noise of the clock only grows louder and louder and louder until it’s a deafening ringing in Jensen’s ear, drowning out all other senses.

Tick tock

Tick tock

The house rumbles and shakes, rattling Jensen’s bones to the core. A high pitched shrill starts somewhere in the house, coming closer and closer and closer to Jensen, claws elongating and digging into the meat of his thighs and biceps and tearing.

TICK TOCK

TICK TOCK

The ceiling bursts into fire, its demonic vapors cloying Jensen’s lungs before the heat could even reach him. Heat, melting his skin off, burning his eyes out, boiling his blood until there was nothing left but ashes and bones. The scream wouldn’t stop. The clock wouldn’t stop ticking. They were in Jensen’s head now and they would never stop… never stop… He just wants it all to stop.

“Aaarrrggghhh!!”

Then the scream registers. It’s a male voice that Jensen knows from somewhere.

 _Jared!_ Jensen’s panicked mind supplies. Was he caught in the fire too? Was he calling for help? Jensen wills his limbs to move. He had to get to Jared. He had to help him, save him. He had to… But his limbs don’t move. He’s burning up from the inside out, and screaming and screaming and _screaming_ …

“Wake up! Jensen, wake up!”

Jensen’s eyes fly open and Jared’s fear stricken eyes swim into view. His first thought is, _Thank God, Jared’s safe. Jared’s okay._

But then he sees the ceiling behind Jared’s head. There is no fire; the house isn’t falling apart. He is still shaking, but it’s Jared that’s shaking him, trying to get his attention. Jensen still can’t move his limbs but he can feel them shivering uncontrollably. The screaming and the ticking have stopped.

“I’m okay,” Jensen croaks out, his voice hoarse and broken, probably from screaming. “I’m okay, I’m okay,” he repeats until Jared stops hovering above him, looking like he is in a car crash, so panicked and scared.

“You scared the crap out of me, man,” Jared whispers, the voice coming out in shaky breaths.

“What happened?”

“I heard you screaming and ran downstairs. You were shaking and thrashing and… oh, God, Jensen – ” he breaks off on a chocked off sob. Jared’s eyes are red-rimmed, not from crying but from being startled out of sleep. He looks shaken, fine tremors running through his body. He is still holding onto Jensen’s arms like he scared that Jensen will start thrashing again if he lets go.

“I was so scared,” Jared whispers in a small voice that he hadn’t used since he was 11 and decided that he was too old to be afraid of the monster in his closet.

Jensen’s protective instincts kick in and he pushes himself off the couch, one hand wrapping around Jared’s wrist. “I’m okay, Jared. Just had a nightmare.”

“But you never have nightmares,” he says, his hazel eyes big and pleading.

“Guess I just popped my nightmare cherry.” Jensen’s weak attempt at humor falls flat but Jared’s eyes lose the wild look and his panic subsides a little. He’s still holding onto Jensen with a death grip.

“Go back to bed,” Jensen tells him, rubbing the cold sweat off his forehead. Jensen’s heart is still jack hammering in his chest and his legs still feel like jelly but he can’t let Jared see how scared he is.

Jared bites his lower lip, worrying it and plucking at the skin. There is nothing sensual about it, just pure fear and nervousness. “Let’s sleep in your room,” Jared says slowly, “the bed’s big enough for both of us.”

Jensen wants to protest, make some stupid comment about how they are too old for that shit but Jared looks so scared and small, holding onto Jensen like he used to when he was a little boy. So he keeps his mouth shut and nods, wonders how bad it was to get Jared shaken up like this. If Jensen were honest with himself, he wants Jared to stay with him as well.

He looks at Jared and tries to see if he can feel any of the earlier resentment and bitterness. But he feels nothing like that – just love and a fierce urge to protect. Jensen shakes his head, mentally berating himself for ever thinking badly of Jared.

“Let’s go,” Jared says, tugging on Jensen’s arm lightly. Jensen gets to his feet without a protest. Then he remembers something.

“Shh!” he says. Jared frowns at him, concern clear in his eyes. Jensen shakes his head a little to say that he’s okay. Jared doesn’t look convinced but he doesn’t say anything, staring at Jensen silently.

Now that their breaths have calmed down a little, the house is quiet again but now Jensen can’t hear the hum of the washing machine or the clock ticking. If he concentrates beyond the blind panic building in his chest, he can hear the waves outside but nothing else. Slowly, Jensen turns his head to look at the fire mantle where the clock stands. Even before he sees it, he knows what he would find there.

A digital clock silently blinks back at him, telling him that it is 01:30 AM.

“Jensen, you are scaring me,” Jared’s soft voice pulls Jensen out of his reverie and he realizes that he had been staring at the clock for way to long.

Jensen gives him his best smile. “I’m okay, Jare, just… a little rattled, I guess.” Jared sighs, his shoulders visibly relaxing. “Let’s get to bed. It’s late,” Jensen says, moving towards the stairway. Jared lets go of Jensen’s arm but follows him closely, just a step behind him. Jensen lets him hover, taking comfort in his solid and warm presence.

As Jensen leaves the living room, turning off the last of the lights, he tells himself that it was just a nightmare. Nightmares happen and people get startled and scared. It’s no big deal. He tries to convince himself that everything is alright and that he still can’t smell the smoke from his nightmare.

And by the time he falls asleep, he almost believes himself.

**Scene 5**

 Morning finds Jensen alone in the bed with a note, cold sheets and a pounding headache. For a moment, Jensen feels numb, tells himself that he knew Jared was going to leave. Then he sees the note, smiley face and all.

 

_Going to the house to get my clothes. Be back by 11._

_Left some Advil and water by the table. Should help with the hangover._

_Pack your bags before I get back. We’re going cruisin’, baby_ _J_

-         _Jay_

 

Despite the hangover from hell, Jensen can’t help the smile that forms on his face. He lies in bed for a little while longer, staring at Jared’s scrawny handwriting, grinning like he is holding a love letter. Yesterday had been amazing. It was just him and Jared, quoting Die Hard lines back to back, talking about everything and nothing, laughing like they had no care in the world. He doesn’t remember the last time he had that much fun.

When the pounding in his skull gets too much to bear Jensen pushes the note under the unoccupied pillow and rolls over. The curtains are drawn over the floor to ceiling French windows that dominate one wall of his bedroom. On a usual day the windows mean that he wakes up to a beautiful and welcome view of the Pacific Ocean. Today it would have meant blinding sunlight stabbing his extremely sensitive eyes. So Jensen is incredibly grateful for the fact that they are closed.

He makes a mental note to get Jared a bag of multi-flavored gummy bears.

When Jensen sees the digital alarm clock on his bedside table he freezes and his heart starts thundering in his chest. The tips of his fingers go numb and the fine hairs at the back of his neck stand up.

 _Ten, nine, eight, seven…_ Jensen looks away from the clock and starts counting backwards to calm his racing mind. It was just a nightmare and he was drunk. Shit happens. No big deal. By the time he reaches zero, Jensen has relatively calmed down. He doesn’t know where the weird dream came from or what it meant but that was all it was – a dream. No need to fret or panic over it.

Jensen gratefully takes the pills Jared left by his bedside and dry swallows them. His throat feels scratchy and dry but his mouth smells like a skunk had died in there somewhere. No way is he going to drink anything without brushing his teeth first. With his limbs feeling like lead and his head feeling like someone is pounding it with a hammer, it takes Jensen a total of 20 minutes to brush his teeth, wash his face and look human again.

His answering machine in the living room tells him that he has 5 new messages. Jensen plays them while fixing himself a toast for breakfast. His stomach still feels a little queasy and he doesn’t think he’ll be able to eat anything more than that. The first message is from his assistant, Danneel, telling him that the only reason he skipped the interview with New York Times better be being dead in a ditch somewhere or he will be soon. Jensen winces, thinking of ways to placate Danneel. Maybe he should buy her new shoes? She won’t be happy when he tells her about the impromptu trip to the cabin and an unhappy Danneel is a scary thing. _Diamonds, then,_ Jensen decides.

The next message is from his mom, asking him if he would like to come home for his parents’ marriage vows renewal. Jensen listens to the message with a blank face and hard eyes. _The Padaleckis are invited too. So, maybe you can bring Jared along as well,_ she says in a timid voice. He knows that there will be a similar message from Mrs. Padalecki waiting in Jared’s answering machine and that it will go unheard and deleted. _We miss y’all,_ she says and Jensen feels a pang of homesickness on hearing the Texan accent. _Jensen please, talk to us. We aren’t like that anymore, I swear. We’ve changed._

The message ends and the next message, from one of the producers he worked with on his last movie, starts up. Sheppard wants to meet up with Jensen for lunch and ‘catch up’ but Jensen knows he wants to know about the new projects he is working on. Jensen tunes it all out as his mother’s voice plays in his head, asking him to come home. _Home,_ he scoffs. Home hasn’t been home is a long time.

Jensen receives a message from his mom every week, sometimes two. Each time Jensen listens to her talk about what his family is doing and how they miss him. Each message ends with his mother asking him, begging him, to come home, to answer her calls. And each message goes unanswered. Jared sometimes asks him why he still listens to the messages. Jensen just shrugs and says it’s because he wants to make sure his siblings are doing okay. Jared then says that he is glad he is a single child and doesn’t have anyone to worry about.

They both know they are lying. His elder brother and little sister aren’t the only reason Jensen listens to those messages and Jared isn’t as well adjusted as he says he is. Jensen knows this because Jared could have blocked his parents’ number but hasn’t done it yet. He doesn’t want to lose that last piece of connection to his parents. And every time Jensen hears his Mom’s voice, he hopes that he will hear his Dad’s voice as well, telling him that he accepts him as he is, asking to come home.

Jensen and Jared both know that their parents wouldn’t have bothered to contact them if they weren’t so rich and famous. It doesn’t stop them from hoping… Doesn’t mean they have to talk about it, though. They remain quiet and never speak about their families, telling themselves that the rejection doesn’t bother them and that it never did.

Lost in his thoughts, Jensen misses the fourth message completely and almost misses the fifth one as well. He only catches the tail end of Ben’s message, telling him that he is felling well and that he is in New York, with his wife. _I’ve put my house in L.A. up for sale, Jensen. So, I won’t be back for a while. I’m thinking of going to Europe. Maria has always wanted to see Paris. I hope you are doing well. Take care, boy. Don’t over work yourself. Maria says hi._

 _End of message. No new messages,_ the machine announces.

Jensen frowns. Ben didn’t sound like himself in the message. It was almost as if he was nervous to talk to Jensen. And what’s up with putting his house on sale all of a sudden? Jensen knew that Ben wasn’t particularly fond of his house in L.A., but to put it on sale? He hadn’t said anything of the sort yesterday when Jensen was there. Besides, Ben’s home was in New York and the L.A. house was more of an office than anything else. Why put it on sale now and out of the blue?

Shaking his head, Jensen shrugs to himself and decides not to think too much about it. He forgets all about it in the 15 minutes it takes him to eat his breakfast and pump himself full of caffeine.

By 10:30 Jensen is packed and ready to go. He leaves his bags in the living room and tells his driver to bring his Ford Explorer out front. Jensen wants this trip to be about just him and Jared so he is quick to tell the driver and his two personal bodyguards that their services won’t be needed for the next 7 days or so. Now it was time to face the music from Danneel and Jensen was _not_ looking forward to that.

“Jensen Ross Ackles, you asshole!” was how Danneel greeted him. “How difficult is it for you pick up your goddamned phone and make a call _before_ the interview to tell me that you wouldn’t be attending? You better start praying to Jesus or Shiva or Allah or whoever else you pray to ‘cause I’m about to come over and stomp your balls with the heel of my shoe and then – ”

“I need to go away to the cabin for a week, Danneel,” Jensen interrupted her before she could get into all the gory details of how she was going to torture his genitals. Better to hear it all at once. “And I’m leaving now.”

“WHAT THE FLYING FUCK, ACKLES!” Jensen holds his phone away from his sensitive eardrums in face of Danneel’s screeching. “YOU HAVE A MEETING WITH BOB SINGER IN 5 HOURS AND A RED CARPET EVENT AFTER THAT! HAVE YOU LOST YOUR GODDAMNED MI – ”

“Danneel, please, stop screaming. I have a hangover.”

“OF COURSE YOU DO!”

Jensen hears a male voice in the background saying something about scripts and for a few moments Danneel directs her anger towards whoever was unfortunate enough to find her while she was in a funk. Jensen winces in sympathy for the guy as Danneel gives a vivid description of which orifice she was going to shove the scripts in. Danneel is a firebrand with a ‘no-nonsense’ attitude and Jensen loves her for that. But she sure has one hell of a foul mouth on her and when angry, she spews shit that would make a 10 dollar whore blush.

“AND YOU, ACKLES –”

“Danni, listen,” Jensen cuts her off before she could start her tirade. “In my defense, it wasn’t my fault. It was all Jared’s doing. He called yesterday saying he just wanted to knock back a couple of beers and ended up making me finish a bottle of Tequila. The impromptu trip to the cabin was his idea too. I just _had_ to go along with it.”

“Did he pull the puppy eyes?” Danneel asks in a much calmer voice. Jensen can’t help but smile. Danneel, like everyone else on the planet, loved Jared and would let him get away with stuff that she wouldn’t let Jensen do.

“Yes, he did,” Jensen says, faking a tired sigh.

“Well, then,” Danneel says carefully, and Jensen can picture her biting her lower lip, trying not to give in. “I suppose I can cancel your engagements for the week. Say you are sick or something?”

“Thank you, Danneel. I knew there was a good reason I hired you.”

“Don’t push your luck, Ackles,” Danni snaps. “You better give me a pay rise for keeping ‘Arrogant Asshole Ackles’ out of the paper headlines.”

“Write yourself a generous check from me,” Jensen says.

“Yeah, sure,” Danneel grumbles, before her voice softens. “Hey, Jensen? Don’t be in any hurry to come back, alright? I’ll sort out the stuff here, keep you posted. Take some time off and have fun with your boy.”

And that right there is why Jensen had hired Danneel. “Just a moment ago you were threatening to cut off my balls,” he says anyway, because he is an idiot.

“I still might if you don’t shut up,” Danneel says, all softness gone. “I just can’t deal with your grumpy ass any longer. I’ll leave that to Misha for a few days and take a vacation in the Bahamas.”

“I assume I’m paying for that vacation as well.”

“’Course you are,” Danneel says before hanging up.

Sometimes Jensen wonders who the boss is here.

While on phone with Danneel, Jensen had wandered off to his home office. He had wanted to go over some paperwork, write some checks, call the housekeeper and sort some things out before he left but now that he had talked to Danneel he knew that she would come over to his house later in the day and do the work for him.

With nothing left to do in the office, Jensen moves to leave the room when his eyes fall on the book he got from Ben’s place. Unable to help himself, Jensen sits down and opens the book once more. This time when he sees the wine stains he decides not to think too much of it. _You always think too much, Jensen,_ he can hear Jared saying. But he can’t shake off the eerie feeling that something is wrong.

 _Stop being a paranoid bastard, Jensen_ , he tells himself.

Determined to not let his crazy brain make him miss out on a good script, Jensen starts reading the story. And he reads and reads and reads and reads… the voices in the story drowning out every other sound in the world…

Until there is nothing left to read.

Jensen turns the 60th page of the script, completely engaged in the story of Sam and Dean Winchester, eager to find out if Sam would leave Dean and go away with Ruby, leaving Dean to face the unknown monster alone… and he sees that the page is smudged with ink, most of the words unreadable.

“What the fuck?” Jensen mutters under his breath. He turns the page and the next and the next and finds them all to be smudged in ink. A quick flip through the rest of the pages tells Jensen that the entire script from page 61 onwards was drenched in ink.

“What the bloody fuck?” Jensen says again because he is freaking irritated beyond belief. He feels like his favorite TV show has just been cancelled prematurely, the last season ending on a cliff hanger. He flips through the pages once more, just to see if the ink had somehow vanished since the last time he’s seen the pages. No such luck.

Agitated, Jensen shuts the book and throws it onto the table, his face twisted into a scowl. It was a damn good script; it had everything: the horror of an unknown monster ripping people’s insides out, the drama of two brothers fighting, witty dialogue, humor, character development, suspense. Everything. If only the script was complete.

Jensen slowly becomes aware of his surroundings. He hears the rustle of the pine tree outside his office first. Then he feels the desk under his elbows, the chair he is sitting on. The world slowly starts taking color like he is a new born baby slowly gaining his sight. The sounds of the world around him – the squirrels chirping outside, the whirl of the fan in his room, the distant sounds of waves crashing and cars whizzing by on the streets – cut through the white noise that had enveloped him while he was reading the book.

Jensen pretends to not notice the strangeness of it all.

He pulls out his iPhone and scrolls through his list of contacts, stops at Ben Edlund and thumbs the call button. Ben picks after three rings. “Jensen, are you okay?” is the first thing his friend says, sounding concerned.

Jensen frowns. “Yeah, Ben I’m alright. Why would you ask that?”

He hears Ben sigh. He sounds a little tired when he speaks. “No reason. What’s up?”

Jensen hesitates before speaking. He wants to ask Ben if he is doing alright. He can hear Maria’s voice in the background and Jensen knows that Ben is in good hands. He chooses to not push. “Uh, nothing much. Listen, about that book I took from your house – ”

“What about it?” Ben sounds almost scared now.

“Ben, are you okay?” Jensen asks.

“What about the book, Jensen?” comes the impatient question.

“I was reading it and I really liked the script,” Jensen continues, reluctantly. “But everything from page 61 is covered in ink, man. More than half the script is unreadable.”

“Okay, good.” Ben almost sounds like he is talking to himself.

“Good? How is this good?”

“Jensen, give up on that book,” Ben says firmly. “Forget you ever saw it and throw it away. It isn’t worth the effort.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Look, I can’t explain it, okay. Listen to me, son. Just let this script go. There are better ones out there.”

“Ben, you are not making any sense, man. Why don’t you want me to work on the script?”

Ben is silent for a long time, long enough that Jensen checks to make sure that the connection didn’t get severed. “Ben?” he prompts when the silence continues.

“Yeah, I’m on,” Ben sounds utterly exhausted now. “What do you want from me? That is the only copy of the script I have.”

“Uh, yeah… I figured. But maybe you could contact the writer of the script? I wanted to contact whoever wrote this after I finished reading the whole thing but looks like I don’t have a choice anymore.”

“I don’t know who wrote it,” Ben says. “Got it in a fan mail.”

Jensen frowns. “Fan mail?”

“Yeah, fan mail. Actors aren’t the only people who have fans, you know?” Ben says lightly.

“I know. But why would someone send you a script in fan mail?” Jensen asks. He can feel the headache from this morning returning.

“Beats me. And the script wasn’t the only thing this fan sent me. I got a ton of letters and crazy gifts from this person before I got the script. Whoever it was only signed the letters as _‘Your biggest fan’_. The strange thing is that the letters stopped coming after the script.”

“That is strange,” Jensen muses. “When was this sent? And did it come damaged or did the ink and wine stains come later?”

“I got it about a year ago. And it came with the wine stains. I didn’t know about the ink stains ‘cause I didn’t get that far in the script, but it couldn’t have been damaged after I got it. I barely opened that thing.”

“One of your assistants could have done it.”

“Possible.”

“Did you ever track down the writer?”

“That is the weirdest part,” Ben says. “I wanted to return the script. That thing gave me the creeps for some reason. So, I got Nancy to track down the writer. It took some time since there was never a return address in the mails but Nancy eventually found the house of the guy who sent these letters.”

Ben pauses and takes a deep breath. “The house was burnt to the ground, Jensen.”

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” Jensen says. He feels his spine tingling and heart beating faster. He is cold to the core, the now-all-too-familiar cold sweat breaking over his forehead but he can also feel the flames from his nightmare licking across his face, can smell the smoke in the air, taste the ashes in his mouth… hear the screams ringing out.

“No one knows how it happened,” Ben continues. “The house was in the middle of nowhere in Lawrence, Kansas. No investigation was ever carried out and Nancy couldn’t find anything on the former residents.”

Jensen suddenly doesn’t feel so okay anymore. Since yesterday he was been in denial, telling himself that it was just the stress. Now he is not so sure. A morbid curiosity takes over and as if in a trance, Jensen lifts the book off the table and stares at its leather bound outer cover. The same curiosity that had first drawn Jensen’s sights towards the book in Ben’s sunroom makes him want to _know._

“Ben, I need you to do me a favor,” Jensen says calmly.

“What is it?”

“Can you send copies of all the letters you’ve received from this writer to my assistant Danneel? And everything Dana found out about the house and the fire too.”

“Why?”

“Just… Please, Ben, I’ll explain it later.”

Ben sighs. “I know you are curious, Jensen. But I’m warning you. It’s best to let this go. Don’t let the book get to you.”

“It’s just a book. Not voodoo. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay. But… All right, I’ll get Nancy to send ‘em to her. Just be careful, Jensen.”

“Always am,” Jensen says before hanging up and dialing Danneel.

“What do you want now, Ackles?”

“I need you to do something for me; find someone.”

“Did you miss the part where I said I was off to the Bahamas?” Danneel says.

“This is important, Danni. It’s about a script that I am interested in.”

Danneel pauses and when she speaks she is in full on professional mode. “Okay, what do you want me to do?”

“Ben Edlund’s assistant, Nancy, is going to send you copies of some fan mail that Ben got. The fan that sent those letters also sent him a pretty good script without a return address. Nancy tracked down the guy’s house and it was burned to the ground.

“Find out who the writer was. Find out everything you can about the house and the fire. I’m pretty sure Nancy didn’t go digging deep enough. Someone has got to know something about the fire and the people that lived there. Contact Welling and Rosenbaum Co. if you have to,” he says.

“P.I.s Jensen? What’s going on?” Danneel asks. “A script can’t be worth that much effort?”

“This one is,” Jensen says.

“’kay. Consider it done,” Danneel says. Jensen can already hear her typing furiously on her laptop.

“You can go on that vacation after I get back,” Jensen says apologetically.

“Don’t worry about it,” his assistant says. “This is more interesting that a sun tan anyway. Anything else you need? Some K-Y and condoms?”

Jensen groans. “Oh, shut up, Danni,” he says. He can hear Danneel laughing as he hangs up.

He doesn’t know what it is about the script that has got him so tied up in knots. Sure, the story is intriguing and Jensen would like to know what happens next but Danneel was right. The script itself wasn’t worth hiring private investigators. The story behind the script however…

Jensen was not someone who believed in God, the afterlife or the supernatural but neither was he stupid enough to chalk up his nightmares to coincidence. That is the first mistake every character in horror movies does – calling coincidence. There was something about the script that keeps nagging at Jensen. He decides it is best not to dwell on it too much until Danneel comes up with something.

A white noise builds and builds and builds in Jensen’s ears until it is shattered by the ringing of the doorbell.

 


	2. ACT II

** **

**Scene 6**

Jensen has been quiet the entire drive, his eyes focused on the road ahead, his hands firmly set on the steering wheel. Jared is getting fidgety. He isn’t used to this radio silence from Jensen. Jared has a habit of talking a mile a minute given the chance and Jensen is someone who he never held himself back with. Looking at Jensen now, the older man seems to be lost in a reverie and Jared wasn’t sure if he should be the one to break the silence.

He breaks it anyway. “You know, if we are going to brood in silence we might as well have stayed at your house.”

Jensen cuts a sideways glance at him, his face visibly softening. He shakes his head a little. “Sorry, man. Just thinking about this new project.”

“Jensen,” Jared whines, “this was supposed to be a vacation, remember?”

“Yeah, I know. It’s just, this script…” he says, his eyes far away and excited. “It’s so good. It’s a pretty fresh concept, guaranteed to do well, but most importantly, it’s got intrigue.” Jensen looks like a little kid at Christmas. The stress lines on his forehead and the corners of his eyes ease up, making him looking younger. He’s got a faint smile curving up his lips, his green eyes shining with enthusiasm. The hands that were so tightly wrapped around the steering wheel are in motion, waving around in expansive gestures as Jensen tries to explain how good the script is. His body is practically vibrating with energy.

Jared knows Jensen only gets like this when he’s found something that he is genuinely interested in. The man puts his heart and soul into his passion, films. And when he talks about a particularly good script that he has read, an interesting concept that he wants to develop, an unique movie that he has watched or, hell, even an inspiring picture he saw in a magazine, he gets this aura about him; he talks with his whole body, telling a story that’s yet to be written, his expressive eyes dancing around in glee. Jared gravitates towards that aura like a sunflower to the sun.

He never told Jensen this, but the reason Jared first became interested in films and acting was Jensen. He will never forget the day he and Jensen watched Citizen Kane on his parents’ couch and after the movie was done, Jensen raved on and on about each little nuance of the movie, explaining why it was one of the best films ever made. Jared, at just 10 years old, decided that something that can put such a wide smile on his best friend’s face has got to be the most amazing thing ever.

Usually Jared loves watching Jensen talk like this, but the whole point of this trip was to get away from work and spend some time together. The fact that Jensen is talking about a script stings Jared.

“What’s the story about?” Jared asks nonchalantly. The question opens a dam in Jensen.

“It’s about two brothers, Sam and Dean Winchester, who hunt demons and monsters while driving across the country. One of their cases puts them in this small town. On the way there a girl called Ruby hitches a ride with them. Oh, and they drive a ’67 Chevy Impala. Nice choice in wheels, right? Sam and Ruby have chemistry and begin to fall for each other but Dean is wary of Ruby. He thinks she means trouble and that Sam should stay away from her. His reasoning is that in the life they lead there is no place for romance. Sam argues that Dean only wants to keep Sam from leaving the family business and by proxy him.”

“What’s so special about it? Sounds like an X-files themed rom-com with incestuous undertones,” Jared says.

“Maybe,” Jensen agrees with an easy shrug of his shoulders. “But the screenplay is amazing and gripping. The script had me turning pages like no other had in a long while. There’s the drama of the dysfunctional Winchester family, the romance between Sam and Ruby, the horror of the unknown monster that they are hunting, and an undercurrent of mystery due to Ruby’s unrevealed back story. There’s witty dialogue, humorous banter. The script’s got everything, man.”

Jared tries to get a word in, to say something but Jensen’s on a roll.

“I really love Dean’s character. He’s the big brother who’s been taking care of Sam since Sam was 6 months old and a demon killed their mother. He feels like the most important job in his life is to protect Sam, to keep him safe. He _defines_ himself by Sam and… yeah, maybe you’re right. It’s got some incestuous undertones. But that’s the best part. The crazy co-dependency makes for some great emotional scenes. And Sam… He is this reluctant hero who loves his family but hates the family business. The only thing keeping him in is his loyalty to his brother. That loyalty gets tested when he meets Ruby. Now he has to choose between his brother and his lover. You know, I imagine Sam as this floppy haired, puppy-eyed – ”

Jensen cuts himself off abruptly and turns to him with a grin. Jared knows that grin from the countless other times Jensen had a _brilliant_ idea. Those ideas usually ended in the two of them getting grounded. “You should do this movie with me. You’ll make a great Sammy,” he says. “You haven’t got any new projects lined up, right? You told me you haven’t signed that historical drama, yet.”

“No, I haven’t but – ”

“That’s amazing. I have the script with me. We can discuss it while we are at the cabin. I think the area around Bedford County will do perfectly for most of the scenes in the script. You know… a rundown town with a small population, surrounded by the woods with little to no connection with the world outside? That is the perfect horror movie set up. We can scout locations once we get there.”

Jared groans on the inside. He thought Jensen just wanted someone to discuss a good script with. He is seriously turning this into a business trip.

“I never said I was going to do the movie,” Jared says and winces as soon as the words come out of his mouth.

Jensen turns to look at Jared, his eyes thunderous, before turning back to the road. “Oh, so the big shot actor is now too busy for the little folk like us,” he says, not taking his eyes off the road.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it, Jensen,” Jared says stiffly.

“No, I don’t.” Jared can see the muscle twitching in Jensen’s jaw – a sure fire sign that he is furious.

“Seriously, man? Do you take me for an ungrateful bastard?”

“Don’t know,” Jensen says, his voice as tight as his grip on the steering wheel. All the happiness in his eyes from earlier has vanished leaving only a hard, closed off expression on his face. “Lately you’ve been the poster boy for the ‘Spoilt Hollywood Brat’ stereotype.”

“You know what? I’m tired of your shit,” Jared explodes. “You’ve been giving me a hard time for sleeping around and partying, talking as if you’ve been a saint. You’re one to speak, Mr. Wham-bham-thank-you-ma’am. The only reason I get into papers more often is because I have more paparazzi tailing me than you do.”

“Oh, so now you’re a bigger celebrity than me? That what you’re saying? You want me to worship the ground you walk on like everyone else?”

“What the hell, Jensen? Stop putting words into my mouth. Of course I’ve got more paparazzi tailing me. I’m an actor and you are a director. Actors get recognized more than the directors.”

“Don’t forget that you wouldn’t be where you are if it weren’t for us lowly directors. We are the runners of the show, not you,” Jensen snaps.

Jared wonders where all this is coming from. Jensen is clearly in a mood and Jared thinks he should take the higher road. The thought only lasts for a second before he says, “You might be, but we are the face of the industry. Your movies wouldn’t be worth shit if it weren’t for our faces.”

“My movies are shit? How dare you, you asshole! You know what? Fine! You don’t want to do the movie, your loss. I have much better actors lining up at my doorstep to work on my movies.”

“Fine! Suit yourself. I have a ton of Oscar worthy scripts lined up, anyway.”

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

The tension in the air is high, like a rubber band stretched to its limits, ready to snap at any moment. Jensen sits beside Jared with his back stiff and shoulders tense, lips turned down in a frown and eyes fixed on the road. The veins running under the pale skin of Jensen’s forearm are more pronounced due to the death grip he’s got on the steering wheel. Jared is doing no better, either. He’s leaning on the door, a scowl etched into his face, his eyes looking everywhere but at his companion. Jared’s got his hands fisted tight on his lap, the nails digging into the meat of his palm. He doesn’t mind the pain, welcomes it even. He tries to ground himself in the pain, clear the haze of the mindless anger.

Jared wonders how they got here.

There is something in the air between them, something dark and angry. The silence in the car is thick enough to drown out the sounds of their combined breathing. The unspoken words and spoken insults occupy the empty space in the car like a physical presence looming over them, waiting and biding its time until one of them snaps.

Jared feels on edge and anxious but he’ll be damned if he’s going to let a stupid fight ruin his friendship with Jensen. “Sorry,” he whispers, looking at Jensen carefully to gauze out his reaction.

Jensen startles and as if only then remembering that Jared is still in the car with him. He spares Jared a glance before turning his eyes to the road. The scowl on his face melts off and his shoulders sag like he’s admitting defeat. He looks so tired.

“No, Jay, you got nothing to be sorry for. I was an asshole.”

“You were,” Jared says, smiling a little. _It’s okay_ , he means. He doesn’t say it out loud because Jensen knows what he means.

Jensen gives him a small smile. _Sorry_ is left unsaid. “I don’t know what’s up with me. I’ve been on edge lately,” he says softly. The car slows down as he speaks and only then does Jared notice that they had picked up speed when they were arguing. “I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. It’s just… I really wanted to work with you again, you know?” He turns fond, green eyes towards Jared. “I lied. There is no one better for this part than you, but I’ll understand if you don’t want to do this.”

“I never said I didn’t want to,” Jared says. Jensen raises an eyebrow at him and Jared huffs out a laugh. “All right, maybe I did, but I didn’t mean it that way. I want to work with you too, Jen and if you think I’ll be good for this part then, hell yeah, let’s do it but this was supposed to be _our_ time. I was just pissed off that you brought your work with you.”

“I didn’t think of it that way,” Jensen says and he sounds so sincere. “Okay, how about this? I don’t talk about work and scripts during the vacation and when we get back, you star in my movie.”

“Sounds good to me,” Jared says smiling.

“It’s a deal then.” Jensen smiles back, holding Jared’s gaze for a moment before turning back to the road.

“Wow, that was our first real fight in a long time,” Jared says.

Jensen shakes his head, laughing a little. “Yes, it was.”

“You know what the best part about fighting is? The make-up sex. Want me to blow you?”

Jensen turns his head so fast that Jared is scared he is going to have whiplash. Jared doesn’t know what made him say it but he doesn’t take his words back. You don’t get a more obvious invitation than that. Jared holds his ground and waits for Jensen to react, to say something, but Jensen only stares at him with wide-eyes.

Maybe Jared could have gotten a reaction out of Jensen. Maybe Jensen would have said, “Fuck, yes” in his rich, deep, bedroom voice. Maybe they would have pulled over and had a heart-to-heart. Or maybe Jensen would have politely declined, telling him that he only thought of Jared as his kid brother and best friend, nothing more. Jared never liked to think about scenarios like the last one.

The point is, he could have gotten a reaction out of Jensen if it weren’t for the hot brunette standing in the middle of the road with her arms outstretched, looking like a sinful depiction of Christ’s crucifixion.

Jared sees the girl in the corner of his eye not a minute too early and shouts. “Jensen!!”

Breaks are slammed and the car comes to an abrupt halt, tires screeching on the hot concrete. Jared moves forward with the force of the break, bracing his arms against the dashboard, his seatbelt the only thing keeping him from flying out the window. He looks up from under his bangs that fell forward, and sees that the car has stopped inches away from the girl’s legs.

She didn’t even flinch.

He turns, slack-jawed, and finds his expression of shock mirrored on Jensen’s face. Jared turns to look at the girl once again and sees her lowering her arms. His first thought after _What the fucking hell?_ is _Damn, she is hot!_

The girl – _woman,_ Jared corrects himself – looks like she is in her early twenties. Her medium length black hair falls around her angular face in neat curls, framing it. She has dark eyes and wide pink lips. Her arms are strong with just the barest hint of muscle – enough to make her look tough and yet feminine. Her sleeveless shirt is pulled taut against her slender body, highlighting the full curve of her breasts and the narrow waist. She is petite, not exceptional in the height department, but the ripped khaki shorts she is wearing showcase her strong legs, giving the illusion that they are longer than they really are. To describe the girl standing before them in one word: _hot._

The girl’s lips curve into a smirk and she hikes her backpack higher on one shoulder before gracefully walking towards the passenger side door. She walks with a predatory air, like a panther stalking its food. She reaches Jared’s door and he lowers the window for her. She easily folds her arms over the window, leaning into the car a little, completely confident in her every move. Jared catches a whiff of her night lily scented perfume.

“Hi,” she says in a sultry voice that most porn stars would die for. “I’m Genevieve.”

**Scene 7**

Sometimes you look at your prey and you _know_ you’ve won the game even before it has begun.

Your prey doesn’t know that. It thinks it still has a chance; that it can find a way to slip out of your clutches, blindside you when you aren’t looking. It thinks that it’s playing the game with you. It doesn’t know that it’s playing in your turf, playing according to your rules. You can fine tune it like an instrument, make it dance like a puppet in your hands. You’ve got the skill, the assets and you know it.

You _know_ your prey.

Genevieve makes her way to the side of the car, the window rolls down to greet her like she knew it would. The faces inside the car are frozen. She smiles to herself. She puts her forearms on the window and leans into the car, putting her ample breasts on display for the men. She knows she is hot, stunning even and she isn’t ashamed to use that to her advantage.

“Hi, I’m Genevieve,” she says. Jared is still staring at her like a teenage boy looking at a naked chick for the first time. Jensen is looking at her he is seeing a ghost. _Maybe he is._

“My car broke down,” she says, nodding her head towards the black Volkswagen parked unceremoniously off the road. “I was hoping if I could – ”

She stops suddenly and looks at Jared like she’s noticed him for the first time. Like, she hasn’t planned this all along.

“Oh, my God! I know you,” she exclaims, her face carved into a mask of controlled excitement. “You’re Jared Padalecki.”

Jared gives her a blinding smile and Jensen rolls his eyes a little. “What do you want?” Jensen asks, his voice telling her how annoyed he is.

“She wants to sell Girl Scout cookies in the middle of the highway,” Jared says with a laugh, cutting a sideways glance at his companion. “What do you think she wants, doofus?”

“I’m looking to hitch a ride,” Genevieve says, cutting off Jensen before he could start speaking. She looks at Jared with sultry eyes. “Care to help a lonely girl out, sir?”

Jared smiles and shakes his head a little. He turns to look at Jensen, who shrugs and heaves a put-upon sigh. “Sure, hop in,” Jared tells her.

She doesn’t hesitate, just slips her backpack off her shoulder and throws it into the car before getting in herself. She sees the bound leather book lying on the back seat, left there rudely in a hurry. A slow smile forms on her wide lips as she runs a neatly manicured finger over the spine of the book. The first part of her plan has been a success. She is so close to getting what she wants.

“Where are you headed?” Jensen asks her, glancing at her from the rearview mirror.

“Oh, Slat Creek. You guys?” she asks, like she didn’t know where they were headed.

“We’re stoppin’ at Bedford County, so you’re going to have to hitch another ride from there. Sorry,” Jensen says, not sounding the least bit apologetic.

“That’s cool. Thanks for the ride, by the way.”

Lies, all lies. Everyone lies. Everyone thinks they’re playing the others. They don’t know that they are getting played.

“So, Genevieve,” Jared starts.

“Please, call me Gen,” she says.

Jensen grits his teeth and does his best to not react. Genevieve sees Jared hesitating, cutting a glance towards Jensen, before he says, “Okay, Gen, what are you headed to Salt Creek for?”

“It’s where my parents live,” Genevieve says. Jared nods, turning his head towards her a little. “They’ve got this, like, huge estate in the middle of nowhere. The thing is, I’m a city girl and I’m not really looking forward to spend time in a place that doesn’t even have a cell signal. I knew this trip was gonna be a disaster, just didn’t expect things to go to hell so soon.”

Jared tsks sympathetically. Jensen remains impassive. Gen glances between the two friends before speaking to Jared. “I’m a really big fan of your movies, Mr. Padalecki. And I have to say, you are cuter in person.”

Jared ducks his head. “Please, call me Jared. And thank you.”

“Gen and Jared,” Jensen mutters under his breath. Jared doesn’t catch it but Gen does.

“I never caught your name,” she asks innocently. She never needed to know Jensen’s name or his profession or his life history _,_ but she asks anyway.

“That’s ‘cause I never told you,” Jensen replies curtly.

“He’s Jensen,” Jared cuts in and gives Jensen a look that clearly means _tone it down, grumpy_. Gen smiles to herself.

“What do you do?” she asks.

“I drive,” Jensen says, indicating the steering wheel under his hands with an irritated huff.

“Oh, you’re Jared’s driver?” Gen quips, keeping her voice pleasant and judgment free. She notices Jensen gaping at her indignantly from the corner of her eyes. She chooses to ignore it.

“No!” Jared is the one to speak this time, righteous fury on behalf of his best friend bleeding into his voice. “He is a director, one of the best in Hollywood, in fact. He directed my first movie.”

“I didn’t know that. I’m really sorry,” _Not really_.

“It’s all right,” Jensen says. Even he has to admit he walked right into that one. Gen just took the chance to humiliate him a little. “Directors are like drivers anyway. What about you?”

“I’m a journalist,” Gen says sounding excited. “Oh, my, you’re Jensen Ackles?”

Jensen gives Gen a small smile this time and despite herself, she blushes. “The one and the only.”

“Oh gosh, I love your movies so much!” Gen gushes. “You and Jared are a killer combination. Are you guys getting together for a new movie? That would be ah-mazing!”

Jensen hesitates before answering. “Um…”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that,” Gen says, noticing the frown on Jared’s face and unease on Jensen’s. She is not sorry at all. “I know you can’t talk about that stuff.” She wants to hear it anyway.

“We are just road tripping,” Jared tells her.

“So the rumors are all true. You two really are best buddies,” she squeals a little at the end for effect.

“Not really,” Jensen says seriously. “I hate Jared. He’s always been stealing my thunder since we were kids.”

“You never had any thunder to begin with,” Jared says hotly.

Jensen ignores him and continues to talk to Gen, who frowns, looking a little alarmed and curious. “I’ve always wanted to kill this son of a bitch. One day I’ll kill him in his sleep.”

“Right! ‘Cause you can never face me when I’m awake,” Jared returns.

“Just trying to make it easy on you, pal.”

“No need, _pal_. I can handle you just fine with my eyes shut.”

“Yeah, like you _handled_ Sandy. She called me in the middle of the night to tell me you couldn’t get it up.”

“You dick!”

“Yeah, my dick. It’s much better than yours.”

Jared punches Jensen’s shoulder. Jensen hits him back and a minor one handed tussle starts between the two of them while they keep up a litany of curses and insults. Genevieve gasps in the back seat, looking a little confused and scared. This wasn’t what she’d expected and she doesn’t like the unexpected. Her hand brushes over the book and her fingers instinctively curl over the spine.

Jensen and Jared both stop their tussle abruptly and, at the same time, turn to look at her with matching grins on their faces.

“You believed all that?” Jared asks. He lets Jensen’s arm go and playfully shoves him a little. Jensen is still smiling but his eyes return to the road.

“Yeah, I did,” Gen says meekly, still curled away from the two men.

Jared throws his head back and laughs. Jensen cuts him a glance as if he couldn’t stop himself from looking when Jared is laughing. Gen notices this. _Interesting._

“We aren’t like that,” Jared tells her. “This asshole and his OCDs can be annoying sometimes but he is my best friend.”

“I still hate him,” Jensen says without a hint of humor in his voice. Jared laughs again and claps him on the shoulder. Jensen looks at him with a fond smile, leaning into Jared’s hand on his shoulder. Gen feels a spark of jealousy curl in her stomach. She smiles anyway. She likes the challenge.

Jared stretches his limbs, groaning a little, and pulls off his jacket. “Jensen, pull off at the next diner,” he says.

“Why?”

“Heard there was an orgy going on,” he says. Jensen shoots him an annoyed, big-brother look. “I’m hungry, man,” Jared whines. Genevieve can’t help but think that he looks like a puppy.

“You are always hungry,” Jensen grumbles.

“I’m a growing boy.”

Gen laughs and Jensen shoots Jared an incredulous look. “Dude, you grow any more, I’m going to have to use an 18 wheeler to carry you around.” Jared just grins.

Jensen shakes his head smiling a little but turns somber quickly. “Don’t know man,” he says softly. The words obviously aren’t meant for Gen’s ears. Never stopped her from listening in, anyway. “According to the script, Sam and Dean get into a brawl at the diner.”

Jared shoots him an exasperated look. “Seriously? I thought we talked about this.”

“No! That’s not what I’m getting at,” Jensen rushes to explain but the scowl doesn’t melt off Jared’s face. Gen watches this all silently, cataloguing her prey’s strengths and weaknesses. Jensen looks at the back seat nervously. Gen pretends be looking out the window, not giving away any reaction. Jensen drops his voice to a whisper. “Look, with the girl coming on, it feels like this trip is paralleling the script you know?”

“Ever heard of a coincidence, Jensen?”

“It’s more than that… You don’t get…” Jensen huffs and Jared waits. Jensen waits a beat, fighting a battle with his common sense. “You know what, you’re right. I’m being silly. Let’s stop at the diner.” Common sense wins.

Genevieve frowns, plans her next move.

The panther stalks its prey. No one taught her to not play with her food. And the game was half the excitement anyway.

She does like the challenge.

If a brawl is what Jensen wants, a brawl is what he will get.

**Scene 8**

Fredric Lehne has been running Blacktop Diner for the last 20 years. You would think he has a boring life running a diner in a no-name little town but that is far from the truth. Running a diner on a highway can be quite interesting. The other day, for example, Fredric had Tom Cruise in his diner. The actor was cleverly disguised, of course. He wore a blond wig and a fake mustache, surely preparing for his next blockbuster role. Fredric had tried to explain to Mr. Cruise that his secret was safe with him and that his moustache looked very convincing.

He only got a weird look in return.

Fredric has also borne witness to several hit and runs – most of them, well all of them, included coyotes – a suicidal eagle dive bombing into a car in Birdemic style, walked in on a twink sucking off a transvestite and even saw the President’s entourage pass through – well, it was the Air Force One flying overhead but same difference, right?

Who was he kidding? Fredric’s life sucked balls.

That was why he didn’t believe his eyes when he saw Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles walk through the doors of his diner with a hot brunette in tow.

Fredric has been batting at the moth balls floating around in the murky, humid air of the diner. His cat has been chasing its own tail in a patch of sunlight for the past 15 minutes and it stopped being cute and started being hypnotic around the 7th minute and 24th second. The only waitress he employs in his diner, Alona, is idly fiddling with the cash counter, chin propped up on her fist, looking out the windows with a disinterest that cannot be faked. That kind of disinterest only comes from living in a town that seems to have a permanent sepia filter on it.

The only customers in the diner, Ron Lea and Jon Gries, had just graduated from the plight of Nina’s pregnancy on Days of Our Lives to the fate of Jonathan’s widow on Ryan’s Hope when the bell above the door tinkled, signaling the arrival of newcomers. He thought it would be old Joe from down the street coming in for his lunch. They don’t get much traffic in these parts, anyway; most people choosing to put the bleak town and its dusty roads in their rearview mirrors as fast as possible.

When the newcomers enter, the diner goes absolutely silent. Fredric looks up when Alona stops fiddling with the cash counter. Her mouth is parted on a gasp and her eyes wide as she tracks the movements of the arrivals. Ron and Jon look up from their disinterested survey of their food and stop talking too. Fredric pushes his trucker hat a little higher up and turns to the newcomers to see if they are horrifically disfigured or something.

Fredric’s jaw drops comically when he gets a good glimpse at the two men that have just entered his diner. He even rubs at his eyes to make sure that it wasn’t a trick of the light and pinches himself to check if he is dreaming. All the standard tests come negative, confirming that Fredric is indeed looking at the Academy Award nominated director and America’s current heartthrob. Alona, Ron and Jon have got their eyes on the men too, but Fredric doesn’t see any recognition on their faces. They are probably salivating at the Aviator shades and the Ralph-Lauren clothes. _Small town idiots,_ Fredric snorts.

Alona saunters over smoothly to the booth that the A-listers have occupied with an exaggerated sway in her hips. She would have made a pretty picture if it weren’t for the greasy hair, coffee stained apron and unwashed face. Yet, the taller guy, Jared, gives her a blinding smile that sends the poor girl into a fit of giggles and heats up her face visibly. The director seems to be in a mood, face twisted in a scowl, shoulders held tense and eyes roaming apprehensively over the other patrons.

Jared flirts with Alona, calls her sweetheart and flashes his dimples. By the time Alona gets back to the counter with the order, she is a nervous, mumbling and giggling mess. Fredric can practically see the stars in her eyes as she imagines the fair-haired, dimpled cheeked babies she would make with Jared Padalecki. Jared, on the other hand, seems to have all but forgotten Alona, deep in conversation with Jensen Ackles. Fredric decides he doesn’t like him.

“Hey, sweetheart?” Jared calls and Alona almost gives herself a whiplash by turning around too fast.

“Yeah?” she breathes.

“Turn on the jukebox will ya? Play something good. None of that anemic pop songs crap.”

Alona nods eagerly and rushes to turn on the jukebox as per request. Voices by Rev Theory plays up.

On a second and more careful glance at the table Jared and Jensen are occupying, Fredric notices the pretty brunette that had entered the diner with them. She is casting nervous glances at Ron and Jon, as if considering approaching them, while keeping an eye on her two companions. She is biting her lips furiously, a little line of frustration – or maybe anger, Fredric can’t tell – etched into her forehead. She is fiddling with the hem of her short, tight, sleeveless shirt.

The girl turns her head suddenly as if feeling Fredric’s eyes on her. His eyes meet hers from across the diner. Before Fredric can worry about getting caught staring at the pretty girl, who was old enough to be his daughter, the girl looks away hurriedly, her long dark hair shielding her face from view. After a few moments, she looks at her companions and mumbles something inaudible.

Fredric thinks he should look away; he was probably creeping the poor girl out and the stars surely wouldn’t appreciate his attention on them. But it’s like he can’t help himself. He thinks it’s because they are celebrities and being in the same room as them is the most exciting thing that could happen in Fredric’s pathetic existence; but there is something about them that keeps his eyes riveted.

He has a voice in his head that’s his savior and it tells him _don’t look away_.

The girl gets up from the booth she was sharing with the actor and the director and walks to a dusty corner of the diner. Jensen doesn’t seem too happy about it; he’s frowning a little, but he says nothing and continues listening to Jared’s animated chatter.

The girl sits herself down on the corner most booth, plastering her side to the wall and staring out the grime covered window while waiting for her order to arrive. Her shoulders are hunched, like she is trying to disappear into the tiny corner, a morose expression on her face. She sniffs conspicuously and dabs a tiny hanky under her lashes – to get any runaway mascara, Fredric imagines.

He smells something fishy.

Fredric Lehne has been running Blacktop Diner for the last 20 years. The diner stands like an abandoned lover on the highway road side, at the edge of the cluster of the houses and shops that passes for a town. The outer walls were supposed to be given a new paint job some 12 years ago and the wallpaper on the inside is peeling out in pieces and falling off like it thinks wallpaper-suicide is better than sitting on the walls of this pathetic little building.

It doesn’t matter that the food Lehne provides is of the best quality you can expect from a diner, it doesn’t matter that Lehne takes great pride in the complete lack of rodents in his establishment. All one thinks of when they look at the diner is greasy old fat dudes. And they wouldn’t be wrong. Grumpy truckers are usually the only ones stopping at the place to catch a quick burger and a beer before they head off to where ever they go.

The thing is Lehne doesn’t find anyone of interest in his life. It doesn’t stop him from imagining, though. Sometimes he thinks about an undercover CIA agent walking in and a shootout breaking out, right there in his diner, the sharp smell of gun powder burning away the stale and murky stench in the air. Sometimes, he thinks a smart, rich lady dressed in a power suit, her hair tied up in a loose bun, will stop by. Fredric would then win her over with his charm and they will together angst over how different their lives are and they can _never_ be together. In the end, they always end up together. Or maybe he will find a drug-addicted prostitute running away from her troubles and he would finally get the inspiration for his Nobel Prize winning novel.

Today, he imagines two Hollywood A-listers harassing a pretty girl and Fredric is the hero that swoops in, saves the day and exposes the decadence of this generation’s young celebrities to the world’s newspapers.

Fredric makes his way towards the young girl after Alona had delivered her order. He slips into the booth soundlessly, looking over his shoulder to check if Jared and Jensen are watching. The men are busy digging into their T-bone steak and cheese burger respectively. The girl sitting in front of him is now watching him a little apprehensively from under her lashes.

“How’s the food?” Fredric asks.

The girl looks down at her piña colada tofu and looks back up with an adorably confused expression. “G-good,” she stutters.

Fredric nods, considering the girl carefully. She goes back to her eating, sneaking occasional glances to see if Fredric is still there. “Is there a problem?” Fredric asks after a couple minutes of stilted silence.

The girl looks up with a deer-caught-in-the-headlights expression. “No, sir. Everything is perfect and tastes pretty good for a – ” The girl cuts herself off with a mildly horrified expression, looking for all the world like her grandmother just caught her potty mouthing.

Fredric waves her off. “What I meant was do you have a problem with them?” he asks with a jerk of his head in the general direction of Jared and Jensen. No use beating around the bush.

The girl looks startled, blinking her eyes stupidly for a moment. She opens her mouth like she wants to say something but bites down on her lower lips before the words can take shape. “No problem, sir,” she answers meekly.

“Hmm… You see, I was only asking because I was wondering…” Fredric says carefully, trying to get the young girl to trust him. “You came in with those two men but now you are sitting here all by your lonesome. Why is that?”

“I’m a vegan,” she replies, avoiding Fredric’s eyes.

“That all there is to it?”

The girl nods jerkily, then bites her lower lip and stills. When she looks at Fredric again, her eyes are a little watery.

“You can talk to me, kid,” Fredric says in what he hopes is a reassuring and commanding voice.

The girl’s lip wobbles a little and when she speaks it’s no more than a whisper. “My car broke down on the highway and those guys gave me a ride. I thought they were gentlemen. I’m actually a big fan of Jared so I was really excited to see him but he is an asshole,” she says with a sad little shake of her head.

“What did he do?” Fredric pushes.

“He’s been propositioning me all through the ride,” she says. “Every word is laced with innuendos. Just a couple of miles back, he even casually said that I should blow him.” The girl’s dark eyes are wide and teary by the time she finishes. Fredric just tsks and shakes his head. He knew something was up.

“Why are you still travelling with them?” he asks, not unkindly.

“I’m kinda scared of them,” she says.

“Hmm… I’ll take care of it.” Even as Fredric says it the girl’s eyes turn into saucers and she shakes her head vehemently.

“Please, don’t. I’ll be deserted in the middle of nowhere if they ditch me.”

“I have a truck out back. It doesn’t compare to their shiny Ford but it’ll get you to the city,” Fredric says smoothly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You can hitch a ride or catch a bus from there. Better yet, you can get your car towed and repaired.”

Fredric is up and out of the booth before the timid girl can protest.

There is a small part of his brain that tells him that getting into a fight with two of the most influential men of Hollywood might not bode well for his business. But Fredric could be the hero here. He could save the girl. He could make the papers as the small town man who didn’t let the celebrities’ stardom scare him. Besides, it wasn’t like he was planning on beating the men to death. He only wants to intimidate them.

Fredric explains the situation to Ron and Jon, leaving out the tiny detail about Jensen and Jared being movie stars. They both tell him that if things get out of hand, they would step in and have his back. When Fredric turns around he is a little taken aback to see that the young girl is now sitting in the same both as Jared and Jensen, looking a little scared and a lot nervous.

Fredric exhales, squares his shoulders, pulls himself to his full height and makes his way towards Jared and Jensen’s booth. He has a plan, a whole speech in his mind, but it all flies out of the window when he sees the two men glaring daggers at him.

Jared’s looking at him like he looks at the villain who is torturing his on-screen girlfriend while Jensen looks at him like he would happily crush Fredric under the heel of his boot.

The girl keeps her head down.

For a brief moment he wonders if causing a scene is worth the trouble. Then he sees Aldis, Richard and Elias, the three musketeers as they called themselves, come in through the diner door. From the corner of his eye Fredric sees Ron and Jon walk over to the three youngsters and whisper something in their ear. Aldis sends an absolutely murderous glare towards the back of Jared’s head and when he meets Fredric’s eye, he nods a little. The confidence that numbers give him makes Fredric speak.

“What are you doing, sweetheart?” he asks the girl, _whose name I don’t even know. God, what the fuck am I doing?_ “Told ya I’d give you a ride home. My truck’s out back.”

A muscle twitches in Ackles’ jaw, his nostrils flare and frankly he looks scary as hell. “The girl’s with us. She doesn’t need _anything_ from you. Fuck off.”

It’s only then does Fredric notice Jared’s fist rhythmically clenching and unclenching, looking like the man is barely holding himself back from beating Fredric to a pulp. Fredric almost waves the white flag but he then _hears_ the thick silence in the diner. He might as well have been standing in the middle of Colosseum. He’s staring down the lion’s throat, the crowds are cheering, going berserk in their seats, and Fredric cannot back down now.

“No,” he says evenly. “I’m not leaving without the girl and you aren’t leaving with her.”

Jared’s face morphs into that of disgust. “You sick, slimy, son of a bitch,” he growls, unfolding himself from his seat. He stands, going up and up and up until Fredric is craning his neck almost at 90 degrees to look at the man standing beside him. Fredric gulps, because _actors weren’t supposed to be so tall in real life. The man must be 7ft at least. I’m dead meat._

Before Fredric can hyperventilate or piss his pants in face of the six and a half feet wall of pure muscle and fury, several things happen. Aldis throws a beer bottle at Jared, Jensen screams, Jared ducks and the bottle crashes on the back wall of the diner. Fredric thinks things must have occurred in that order but he isn’t so sure. He is too busy trying to process everything else.

In the blink of an eye, a fight has broken out in his diner.

Everything occurs in slow motion. Fredric stands on the sidelines with Alona and the dark haired girl, watching in a daze as the five men go at each other’s throats. At some point Richard smashed a bottle on Padalecki’s head and everything turns into one big blur. Just moments later, the fight ends. Ron is lying on his back on a broken table, Jon is crouched next to a wall coughing up blood, Elias is rolling on the ground clutching his broken ribs, Aldis is on the floor with his arms pinned behind his back by Jared Padalecki and Richard is dangling a feet above the ground, batting weakly at the hand around his throat.

_What the hell happened here?_

“I’ll fucking kill you!” Jensen roars, slamming Richard’s head into the wall. Richard looks blue, quickly turning purple, his eyes rolling into their sockets as his struggles weaken. _He’s dead serious,_ Fredric realizes with a jolt.

“Let him go, please,” he asks just as Jared says, “Jensen, let him go.”

Jensen doesn’t. He keeps slamming Richard into the wall until he sees red behind the boy’s head. Only when Padalecki puts his hand on Jensen’s shoulder does the he let go. Richard falls to his knees, clutching at his throat and wheezing alarmingly. Jared drags Jensen away from the boy, whispering something that Fredric can’t hear.

As soon as the two men are a couple of feet away, Alona rushes to Richard giving him a quick once over. She looks scared and pale, tears running down her cheeks. Her hands are shaking as she holds Richard. _The boy needs a hospital,_ Fredric notes absently.

Fredric Lehne has been running Blacktop Diner for the last 20 years. In those 20 years, he has never seen his diner look like this. He’s seen the wallpaper peel off in crumbs but he’s never seen blood on it. He’s seen the chairs and tables and thought to himself that they looked boring but he’s never had to wonder if a tornado had ripped through them. The diner has never had much traffic and was almost always annoyingly quite, but it was never muted, while each person holds their breaths. He’s never had much excitement in his life but never in his life did he think he _wouldn’t_ want adventure.

 _I want my dull, boring life back,_ he thinks

The dark-haired girl, _whose name I still don’t know,_ is frowning as she watches the two men. She doesn’t look bothered by the violent exhibition of testosterone. In fact, she looks unaffected, uncaring, almost uninterested. Her eyes are just for the two stars – who are now busy assessing each other’s wounds – and she looks angry that the men are no longer paying any attention to her.

 _I fell for an attention whore,_ Fredric thinks bitterly.

Jensen glares at Fredric, the only man standing, as he makes his way to the refrigerator. Fredric lowers his eyes in a sign of submission. The director pulls out an ice bag from the freezer and walks out of the diner with his friend without a backward glance. The girl follows them and Fredric feels like the cloying humidity in the air has lifted and he can breathe properly again.

Fredric waits until he hears the Ford pull out of the driveway before he drops to his knees next to Elias. The boy is trying to move and he puts a hand on his chest, stilling the movement. “Your ribs seem to be broken. You might puncture something. Don’t move.” Aldis is swaying next to a crying Alona and an unconscious Richard. Ron and Jon are holding onto each other like two penguins cuddling for warmth.

“I’ll get the truck,” Fredric says gruffly, tears and fear clogging his throat. No one looks at him or acknowledges him. Just like that, Fredric knows that he’s lost all his closest friends.

As he rushes to get the truck, Fredric wishes that he had never thought twice about that dark-haired girl. He wishes he had just kept his stupid mouth shut and gone on living his pathetic, boring life. He wishes Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki and whatever curse they had brought with them had never stopped at his diner.

He has a voice in his head that’s his savior and it just _laughs_ at him.

**Scene 9**

Blood trickles lazily onto the steering wheel from Jensen’s torn knuckles.

He pays it no heed and continues to grip the wheel in a bruising hold. Jensen’s foot is firmly pressing onto the gas pedal, his face set into a hard mask as he puts as much distance between them and _crazy town_ as possible.

Beside him Jared is holding the ice pack he got from the diner to his head. They had checked for blood and Jensen deduced that the only blood was from the tiny, superficial nicks from the broken glass. They got the glass out easily and disinfected the cuts as soon as they got out of the little town. The blood had stopped long ago and the only damage was the tiny bump Jared was sporting on his scalp.

“I still think we should get you checked out at a hospital,” Jensen says. He knows Jared’s response before he gives it.

“We’ve been over this. Going to a hospital is only going to bring unwanted publicity.”

“What if you’ve got a concussion?” Jensen asks. He’s still seeing red. He’s got half a mind to turn the car around, go back to the diner and kill the bastard that hurt Jared.

“I’m fine, Jen. If anyone needs a hospital it’s the guy you beat half to death,” Jared says a little pointedly.

“I should have beaten him to death. He wouldn’t need a hospital then,” Jared should know better than to think he would let any asshole hurt Jared and walk away without a scratch. Has high school and the broken noses of his bullies taught him nothing?

Jared shakes his head a little and removes the ice bag from where he is holding it to his head. “We should pull over, check your hands.” He motions towards the dried blood on Jensen’s knuckles.

“I’m fine,” Jensen grunts.

“Jensen-”

“I’m sorry, Jared.”

Jensen startles a little; the car wavers a little off lane before he gets a grip on it again. He looks at the rearview mirror and sees Genevieve looking at Jared with tears in her eyes. Jensen had all but forgotten that the girl was in the car with them. He feels kinda like an asshole. He should have made sure she was okay.

“What are you sorry for?” Jared says easily, smiling a dimpled smile at the girl. “It wasn’t your fault. This should teach the guy a lesson. He won’t bother any more women in his lifetime.”

“I lied,” the girl says softly, her voice shaking a little.

“What?” both Jensen and Jared ask, turning around in their seats to look at the girl. Jensen turns his eyes to the road again but his attention doesn’t leave the conversation.

“The owner of the diner didn’t do anything,” the girl says hurriedly. “I told him that the two of you were harassing me and I told you that he was harassing me.”

“Why would you do something like that?” Jared asks. He is no longer smiling.

“It was just a prank,” the girl says, sobbing a little. “In the movies you take on so many bad guys at once. I just wanted to see if you could do that. I never thought it would get this serious… I’m sorry, Jared. I really am.”

“Stop the car, Jensen,” Jared growls.

“Jared, what?”

“I said stop the car!”

Jensen pulls over to the shoulder, already knowing what’s to come next. “Jared, please!” Genevieve wails as Jared gets out the car and walks off to the back. He opens the rear of the car and yanks Genevieve’s bag out, throwing it callously onto the road. Jared then manhandles a crying Genevieve out of the car. “Jensen, please! Say something!”

Jensen wants to say something. He does think Jared is being a little too harsh on the girl but he remains quiet. He can still taste the fear in his throat when he saw the beer bottle being smashed over Jared’s head. The fight had gotten out of hand and Jared could have been injured seriously. And the whole thing could have been avoided if Genevieve wasn’t such a child?

Jensen doesn’t say a word as Jared gets into the car and orders him to drive. He puts the car into gear and pulls onto the highway, thinking _good riddance_. That is until he chances a glance at the rearview mirror and sees Genevieve standing all alone on the deserted highway, her bag lying at her feet, the sun drying the tear tracks on her face. Jensen continues to look at the girl until she disappears from view and lasts 2 miles before the guilt starts gnawing on his insides.

“We shouldn’t have done that,” Jensen says, wincing a little as he remembers how roughly Jared handled the girl. _Just Jared_ would have a field day if Genevieve decided to contact them. “She might be an idiot kid but we should have acted a bit more mature.”

“Are you kidding me?” Jared says. “We both could end up in serious shit because of that fight. Worse yet, we could have ended up in a hospital if those three assholes weren’t drunk off their asses.”

That is true. Out of the five people they fought, three were drunk. Not drunk off their asses, as Jared put it, but inebriated nevertheless. Had the men had all their faculties functioning they could have been more of a threat.

“But that was the reason there was a fight at all,” Jensen insists. “The diner owner actually stayed out of it and looked kinda shocked that the fight was happening to begin with. Those three guys were drunk and looking for a brawl. This could have happened even if Genevieve didn’t pull that stunt.”

“Jensen, you can’t be serious!”

“Look, the highway is practically deserted and we just left the girl in the middle of nowhere. Alone! We don’t even know if there is any coverage in these areas. And you’ve seen the news. People are getting killed on highways all across the country. If something happens to her, that’s on us!”

Jared remains quiet but Jensen can see his resolve beginning to crumble. It’s only his pride stopping him from going back to get the girl. Jensen gives one last push.

“I know you’re angry right now but when you cool down you’ll beat yourself up over this. Think about it.” Jared lets out a long drawn out sigh and waves his arm in a vague gesture. Jensen smiles to himself before making a U-turn.

He wasn’t exaggerating when he said that the highway was deserted. Since they left Genevieve on the roadside only a single truck has passed by them. It would be really difficult for Gen to find a ride. Jensen might not be Genevieve’s biggest fan but he wasn’t cruel. He couldn’t abandon a girl – anyone – in the sweltering humid air.

Jensen pulls the car on the shoulder when he reaches the spot that they left Genevieve in. The place is now empty with not a soul in sight. Jensen exchanges a slightly alarmed glance with Jared and cuts the engine.

“You sure this was where we left her?” Jared asks, getting out of the car.

“Positive. See that tree there? I pulled up in its shade earlier.”

Jensen crosses the road and looks around the tree to see if Gen had moved there to get out of the harsh sunlight, but the girl wasn’t there and neither were her bags. Returning to the car Jensen sees Jared leaning casually against the hood, Aviators on, arms crossed over his chest. He doesn’t look as alarmed as Jensen feels.

“Where could she have gone?” Jensen asks. He takes one more sweeping glance of the landscape.

“What does it matter?” Jared says. “She probably found another ride. Let’s just go.”

Jensen shakes his head. Jared’s voice sounds far off, like Jensen is underwater. The humid, heavy silence of the highway presses into his ears as a vague sense of déjà vu washes over him. “We gotta find her,” Jensen says and jumps a little, startling at the sound of his own voice cutting through the ringing in his ears.

“Why are you so worried about this girl? You sweet on her or something?” Jared’s frowning and he looks annoyed. Jensen thinks _he looks adorable, like a petulant little brother_ … And that is when it all clicks in place.

The car door squeaks on its hinges when Jensen yanks it open. The manuscript lies innocently on the backseat. “Jensen, what?” he can hear Jared say but he doesn’t listen to him. He throws open the book and flips the pages in a controlled pace – fast but not fast enough to damage the pages. He stops at _Scene 9_ and reads, heart beat increasing with each word. By the time he reaches the part he was looking for, Jensen’s palms are sweaty.

“Look!” he says, slapping the page for emphasis. “It says here that Ruby is going to get into trouble after Sam and Dean desert her. The trucker who gives her a ride turns out to be a rapist.” 

“And you think that will happen with us because Nostradamus wrote it?” Jared asks incredulously.

“I can’t explain it, Jay but I have a feeling that the stuff in this book is coming to life,” he says with an urgency that’s got him stumbling over his words. “The girl asking for a ride, the fight at the diner and even us deserting her on a highway – everything’s in here.

Jensen shuts the book, his brain going over the events of the last few hours, gears clicking and chains moving. He knows, he just _knows_ , that the stuff written in the script is paralleling their real lives for some reason or the other. Thankfully there has been no monster so far, but Jensen can’t help but feel on edge. Every shadow and every stray sound perks up his senses as though he were Dean Winchester, but none of it makes any _sense_. The only thing they can do for now though, is go with the flow and use the script to avert any possible dangers ahead.

Jared looks agitated and unconvinced but he sighs and gives in anyway. “Fine! What do you want us to do?”

“We’ve gotta find Genevieve before something bad happens to her.” Jensen clicks his fingers as he remembers. “The blue truck! A blue truck passed us by on our way back here. That’s the only vehicle I’ve seen in the last 30 minutes. I’d bet a 100 bucks that Genevieve’s in that truck.”

“Okay. Let’s chase the blue truck. Fun times!” Jared grumbles some more as he gets into the car but shuts up soon enough and diligently scans the roads for brunettes and blue trucks. Jensen holds his breath and white knuckles the steering wheel as he drives, praying that they can get to Genevieve in time. If something happens to the girl, and Jensen could have stopped it, he would never forgive himself.

“Jensen, look.” Jared says, his voice a serious whisper as he points at the blue truck parked sideways off the road. Jensen nods as he cuts the engine a few yards down the road from the truck. He parks the car out of the truck’s view and gets out. Jared follows him as he makes his way to the truck as soundlessly as possible. The wind rustles his hair and everything is eerily quiet. If Jensen needs any more proof that he has walked into a horror movie in the last 24 hours, this is it.

The truck is inconspicuous, parked next to a railing that looks over a steep drop into the forest below. It isn’t a cliff and the drop isn’t too deep but the thick vegetation makes it a dangerous spot. Jensen notices that the railing’s broken at a point but he can’t see any cars wrapped around the trees so he lets it go. The truck stands quietly, almost too quietly, facing away from the road. Jensen and Jared approach it from the back, making sure to stay out of the rearview and the driver’s side mirror’s ranges. Jensen puts a finger to his lips and silently gestures Jared to take the right side while he takes the left. Jensen creeps up to the driver’s side and freezes when he spies the view inside through the driver side mirror.

Genevieve is wedged against the door, facing him, in the backseat, her hands tied in front of her with a rope. Her mouth is taped shut with an industrial type plaster and her make-up has gone blotchy from her tears, her mascara running down her cheeks. There’s a middle-aged guy, who in any other circumstances would look like the perfect Joe Plumber, leaning over her pinning her legs underneath his thighs. Genevieve’s shirt has ridden up a little, exposing her mid-riff and the guy’s got his calloused fingers splayed over the bare skin. The trucker is leering at Genevieve, spouting some shit that Jensen can’t make out into her ear. He’s got his other hand over his crotch, rubbing at the prominent erection through his jeans.

Now that Jensen is close enough and he is listening for it, he can hear Genevieve’s quiet, muffled sobs and mumbled pleas. Jensen’s hammers in his chest as he tries to formulate a plan to get the girl to safety. He’s got a gun but it is tucked away at the bottom of the suitcase and he doesn’t think he can get it out before the trucker becomes aware of their presence. They can’t simply jump in guns blazing either – not with Genevieve bound and so vulnerable.

Jensen’s sees Jared from the corner of his eyes. Jared’s got his iPhone out, taking the scene in through the screen’s reflection. Jared catches his eye and makes a punching motion towards the windshield. He then points to himself and to the back door of the truck. Getting the message Jensen nods and looks around him in search of something to break the windshield. He settles for a tennis ball sized stone which he hurls at the windshield before dashing over to the other side of the car.

The glass shatters with a deafening crash, breaking the stilted silence of the highway. The trucker lets out a startled scream and shouts, “Who’s that?” At that moment Jensen hears the backdoor of the car on the right side open, followed by Genevieve’s muffled squeal. Jensen gets to the other side in time to see Jared slam the truck door shut and pull off the plaster of Genevieve’s face. Jensen uses a pocket knife, which he always carries around, to cut off the ropes binding Genevieve’s hands while Jared works on the ropes binding her ankles.

Between the two of them they get Genevieve out of the ropes within seconds. Jensen gets a hold of Genevieve’s hand and leads them towards the car with a hurried “Jared, come on,” over his shoulder. Behind him Genevieve is still trying to get her sobs under control but after a few fumbled steps she gets on with the program. Jensen thinks they are okay, they’ve done it when the trucker recovers from the shock and confusion and gets out of the truck.

“Hey, assholes! Give me my bitch back,” the guy shouts. Jensen hears the sound of a gun cock and he stops dead in his tracks, letting go of Genevieve’s hand. His priority shifts from _get the girl away from the pervert_ to _get Jared out of the line of fire_. Jensen is already moving to put himself between Jared and the crazy guy with the Smith and Wesson. Jared, probably having sensed Jensen’s train of thought, holds out his hand in a halting gesture.

Jensen thinks he has a lifetime of _Jared’s Craziest Moments_ saved up and nothing can top the list he’s got, but Jared walking up to the guy that’s pointing a gun at his chest and saying, “Go ahead,” takes the cake. The guy glares at Jared, trying to look intimidating and failing since he barely reaches Jared’s shoulder.

“Go on,” Jared says again.

“Jared,” Jensen calls out. There’s a little shiver in his voice but that is to be expected when a son of a bitch is holding his best friend, his _Jared_ , at gunpoint.

“I got this,” Jared says easily, not taking his eyes off the trucker.

The guy’s hand wavers and he lowers the gun and takes a cautious step back. Jared nods like he had been expecting that to happen. Maybe he had but Jensen’s heart is still beating wildly in his chest, every instinct in him screaming at him to get Jared to safety, but he holds still and trusts, _prays_ , that Jared knows what he is doing.

Jared waits a few more beats before swinging his fist in a mean right hook to the guy’s jaw. The guy stumbles back, looking startled and scared before scrambling wildly into the truck.

The guy puts his truck into gear and hightails it out of the spot without a backward glance. Jared stands by calmly, looking smug and satisfied. He turns towards Jensen with a caught-the-canary grin. Jensen ruefully shakes his head and mutters “Idiot” under his breath before heading towards his own car. The kid is going to give him a heart attack one of these days.

When Jensen gets back to the car he spots the manuscript book lying where he left it on the backseat. The sudden feeling of hollowness and cloying silence creeps up to him. In the back of his mind Jensen can make out Jared and Genevieve’s voice. Jared must be comforting the girl, getting her bags from the truck or something, but Jensen can’t hear them – not really. All he can hear is silence and a blood curling scream somewhere in the distance.

The ground falls away from beneath his feet and the highway melts away. Jensen finds himself standing in the ruins of a house burned to its foundations. There is nothing here but ashes and charred wood but Jensen can smell the smoke and taste the fear. Jensen can see the landscape around the house since there are no walls blocking his view. There’s nothing but plain, flat land as far as Jensen can see. The road that runs along the land looks unused. Along the horizon Jensen can see the green leaves of trees, but there is no sign of life around the house. Even the weeds and grass think it’s best to give the burnt land a wide breath. It’s as if the house has poisoned everything around it leaving nothing but death in its wake.

Everything is quiet. Even the silence is eerie. It’s the kind of silence that reminds Jensen of lonely afternoons spent in the Texas heat, when everyone was content to just nap in their houses and continue their boring existences. Melancholy was a constant companion in those times. Jensen could practically feel the life and vitality draining out of him through his pores. The urge to escape the heat, the _silence_ , was so great that it used to make Jensen restless. He feels that way now. The silence feels cancerous somehow; deadly. It’s just still, frozen, numb, lifeless, _dead_.

During those lonely summer days the only sound that could bring Jensen out of his gloom was Jared’s voice. Things aren’t much different now.

“Jensen?”

Jensen jumps. “Sorry, what?”

Jared gives him a curious glance. Genevieve is already in the car, resting her head against the backseat window. Jared is standing in front of Jensen with an arm outstretched. “I was saying that I should probably drive.” He pauses, eyeing Jensen like he is trying to figure him out. “Your knuckles must be killing you,” he adds.

Jensen nods silently and hands over the car keys without a protest. Jared looks alarmed now, his eyes wide. “Hey, man, you okay?”

Jensen shakes his head. “Long day. Need a nap.”

Jared looks less panicked now and more concerned. He probably thinks Jensen is going into a delayed shock of some sort or having a heatstroke. He turns the AC up to the max in the car and hands Jensen a water bottle with strict orders to not drink it all at once. Jensen feels stupid for having Jared fuss over him when there’s a girl who’s nearly been raped in the backseat. Genevieve looks peaceful; almost asleep so he lets Jared mother-hen him to his heart’s content. The kid doesn’t get too many chances to take care of him so he makes the most of what he gets.

Lying in the passenger seat, with his head tilted back, eyes closed, ice pack on his knuckles and AC blasting cool air onto his face, Jensen still can’t escape the silence and heat from the burned house. Jensen might be a skeptic but even he can’t deny that some deep shit is going down. Something’s coming and Jensen doesn’t know what it is. He’s on edge, he’s probably going crazy and he knows it’s all connected to script somehow. He just doesn’t know how.

The last thought Jensen has before falling asleep is, _What happens at the end of it all?_

**Scene 10**

Jared turns the air conditioner off and rolls down his window. The air has gotten cooler as the sun moved lower in the horizon, the stifling humidity giving way to a pleasant, cool breeze. The landscape has also upgraded from flat, wastelands to the vegetation of Sequoia National Forest, the greenery getting thicker as they approach their destination. The trees make the air crisp and fresh and Jared enjoys the feeling of it ruffling his hair.

After the day they’ve had, some peace and quiet are exactly what they need.

Jensen is still asleep, his neck bending at an awkward angle as he leans against the window. The position can’t be comfortable and Jensen is going to be grumpy as hell when he wakes up. Jared should probably wake him up and he will – just a little while longer. He only wants to make sure that Jensen gets some rest that he so badly needs, that’s all.

And if Jared uses Jensen’s resting time to look his fill at the other man? Well, Genevieve is asleep and there is no one else here to see him perv on his best friend so it’s all dandy.

Jared uses the master controls of the power windows on the driver’s side to roll down the passenger window half-way. The breeze ruffles Jensen’s blond, product-less hair and some of the tense lines of his face smooth out, his shoulders relax. Jensen shifts a little in his sleep and settles down pretty quickly with a peaceful expression on his face.

Jared’s heart clenches in his chest as he looks at his best friend. Jensen looks so beautiful that if Jared were the type to write poetry he’d probably write odes to the freckles on his face, the little crook of his nose and the crinkles at the corner of his eyes.

Even though his mom was an English teacher, literature was never Jared’s favorite subject. Sometimes though, Jared looks at Jensen and thinks _my angel_ – not that he would be caught dead saying something like that out loud.

It’s in these moments that Jared wonders when exactly it was that he fell in love with Jensen. If anyone had told him five years ago that he would be head over heels in love with Jensen Ackles, he would have laughed. He would have told them that he does love Jensen but not romantically or sexually. Jensen was the most important thing in his life and would forever be Jared’s rock, his shelter, his best friend, but that was all.

Somewhere during the past five years, as their individual success made it impossible for them to live in each other’s pockets, Jared realized that Jensen has a much greater hold on him than he had imagined. Learning about the older man’s various trysts with women (publicized) and men (unpublicized) had always left a weird, stomach churning feeling in his gut. Jared hadn’t recognized that feeling for jealousy until recently.

It wasn’t like Jared woke up one day with a hard-on for his male best friend. He just looked at Jensen’s one day and realized that the persistent itch in his chest was the desire to kiss him, but the feeling didn’t feel new or drive Jared into a sexual identity crisis. It felt natural – a part of him. He loved Jensen; he was in love with Jensen. Simple as that.

Jared had tried it out with other guys a couple of times, discreetly of course, to make sure that this wasn’t just a ‘gay phase’ or his ‘gay awakening’. Turns out, Jared is actually Jensexual, as cheesy as that sounds.

It was never about Jensen’s looks, even though he acknowledges that his friend is ridiculously good-looking. When Jared looks at Jensen’s full lips he sees a smile that lights up his whole world. When he sees Jensen’s green eyes he sees the twinkle in them that’s just for Jared. When he sees the strong jaw-line he sees a man who was proud of his sexuality, of who he was, and refuses to change himself for his family even if it meant living on the streets. When he sees the bulging biceps he sees the strong arms that held him when his own parents almost disowned him for wanting to pursue a career in acting.

Jensen has always been his guide, his mentor, his best friend, the one person in the world who would never ever let him down. No, Jared’s love wasn’t based on Jensen’s handsome features. His love has its foundations in the playground behind his childhood home where Jensen first rescued him from his bullies. It’s carved into the rocks on the beach that Jensen took him to on his 14th birthday. It’s written in the stars that they spent countless nights counting. It’s told in the meaningful looks shared and the inside jokes. It’s stored in the tin box that they stored their money in when they were teenagers, building towards their dreams together.

Wow! Jared could be a poet. Chuckling to himself, Jared takes one more eye full of the Jensen-view.

“What’s so funny?” a soft voice asks, startling Jared. Genevieve has woken up and was now looking at Jared with an amused expression on her face.

“Nothing,” Jared says, trying to control his blushing. _Did she catch me looking at Jensen?_ “How’re you holdin’ up?” Jared asks instead.

“I’m good. Thank you, by the way,” Gen says in a meek voice. “I don’t know what I would have done if you didn’t show up on time.”

“I helped too, you know,” an adorably grumpy voice says from the passenger seat.

“Welcome to the land of the living, Sleeping Beauty,” Jared says.

“Fuck off,” Jensen says without any heat.

Jared just laughs. “Hey, Gen, could you hand me the water bottle?” he asks, extending a hand back. He notices Jensen turn his head at ‘Gen’ and then scowl when he realizes that Jared wasn’t referring him. Jared feels a little awkward and guilty.

“Here,” Genevieve says handing him a bottle of mineral water. Jared then passes it to Jensen and orders him to drink it.

“Sure, _mom_ ,” Jensen grumbles but takes a few sips without any protest. Jared is worried about Jensen. He has been acting strange all day, a little aloof like his mind is somewhere else. Jared just hopes that it’s just an effect of the heat and nothing serious.

Jensen passes him the bottle when he’s done and Jared takes a few sips before passing it back to Genevieve. “Can I have some?” the girl asks.

Jared frowns. “Yeah, sure.”

As Jared watches her through the rearview mirror Genevieve puts the rim of the bottle to her lips, touching the plastic right where Jared’s lips touched it and takes a sip while holding Jared’s eyes in the mirror. The whole thing is deliberately sensual – the way Genevieve’s lips stretch over the rim, her tongue flicking out to catch the water droplets on her lips and brushing the bottle on its way, the steadily maintained eye contact and the heat in her half-lidded eyes all screaming “I wanna fuck”. Jared’s mouth is parted on a small gasp by the time Genevieve puts the cap on the bottle.

Jensen’s been seeing the whole exchange too, Jared notices. And the guy is frowning, looking annoyed and angry. Jared smiles to himself imagining Jensen being jealous of Genevieve. The rational part of his brain says Jensen might be jealous of _him_ but Jared pushes that thought away as soon as it forms.

The only reason Jared hasn’t come clean with his feelings towards his best friend is that he doesn’t know how Jensen feels about him. And his friendship with Jensen is too valuable for him to risk. He knows what Jensen would say if he could hear Jared’s thoughts. _You and I, we’re forever, Jared. We’ll be sitting together in a nursing home when we are eighty, playing pranks at the nurses. Nothing you do can ever change that._ And deep down Jared knows it’s true. What he and Jensen have is too strong to fade away just because one of them has romantic feelings for the other. But he is in love and he is scared.

Sometimes Jared thinks he can see the tell-tale signs of Jensen returning his feelings – a touch lingering too long here, a longing look there, the occasional jealously in Jensen’s voice when Jared talks about his girlfriend-of-the-week. Jared revels in the fact that he gets to see the carefree side of Jensen, the side that is human and not Hollywood, the sides that’s got insecurities and hopes. Jensen’s got a special smile for Jared, they can communicate with mere looks, Jensen’s gaze always softens when he looks at Jared… and so on and so forth.

But as soon as Jared starts feeling giddy about the probability of Jensen returning his feelings, he manages to convince himself that all this could just be platonic for Jensen. He probably thinks of Jared as a little brother, nothing more.

The problem is, Jared doesn’t _know_. And he wants to know.

Jared catches Genevieve’s smile in the rearview mirror, sees the frown on Jensen’s face and decides that he’s got the perfect opportunity to settle this once and for all.

He gives Genevieve a slow, dimpled smile and Jensen’s frown deepens.

Jensen turns around sharply and pulls the manuscript from the backseat. Now, it’s Jared’s turn to frown. Jensen had _promised_ that he wouldn’t think of the script all through the ride. Jensen flips through the pages just like he did earlier and begins reading with a frown on his face. From where he’s sitting Jared can see Jensen’s eyes raking over the words at breakneck speed – probably glossing over rather than reading. When he’s done Jensen puts the book on the backseat again, looks out of the windshield, his eyes far away.

“What’s the matter?” Jared asks softly.

“A guy with a motorcycle is going to ask for a lift,” Jensen murmurs surely. Jared groans, but before he can say anything Jensen puts his hand up. “Just… drive.”

Jared has no choice but to oblige. He bites his lip from saying something sarcastic or potentially hurtful. There’s a feeling nagging at the back of his head that says Jensen is interested in the script for more than one reason. Words like _obsession_ come to mind and Jared’s head wanders off to all the rumors he’s been hearing lately about Jensen’s supposed _depression_. Jared pushes all those thoughts away, berating himself for even entertaining them, and tells himself that Jensen is just in one of his moods.

A motorcycle zooms past them and Jared grips the steering wheel tighter against his own will. Jensen’s frowning at the back of the motorcyclist. Jared glances behind him and sees that Genevieve’s staring at the motorcyclist with a sneer on her lips too. Heart thundering in his chest, Jared makes a conscious effort to not let his thoughts run amok. It’s difficult, almost impossible.

Turning a corner Jared spots the motorcycle that just passed them parked several yards away. The guy who was driving is standing on the edge of the road, a backpack swung on his shoulder, his hand stretched out in the universal sign of ‘lift please’. Jensen sits up straighter in his seat and opens his mouth to speak, no doubt to ask Jared to not stop the car. Genevieve beats him to the punch.

“Jared, please don’t stop the car,” she whispers from the backseat, a tan hand curling over Jared’s seat, fingers brushing his shoulder.

“Why not?” Jared asks, slowing the car down.

“Just drive, Jared,” Jensen hisses.

“The guy misbehaved with me,” Genevieve says.

“What? How the hell did he do that?”

“The girl’s saying that the guy misbehaved with her. We don’t need any more details than that. Just drive, Jared.”

“Genevieve’s in the car with us. How the hell can that guy do anything to her?” Jared asks incredulously. He can’t believe Jensen’s siding with Genevieve on this. They are talking about the same Genevieve who started the fight in the diner with false accusations, right?

“Just now,” Genevieve says hurriedly. “He passed us a minute ago and made really crude gestures at me through the window.”

Jared almost rolls his eyes at the farfetchedness of it all.

“Listen to her,” Jensen says. “Don’t stop for him, Jared.”

“But why not? You’re gonna stop for a girl on the highway but not a guy? The highway is still deserted and it’ll get dark soon. The guy could be in a shit load of trouble. Remember the highway murders, Jensen?” Jared feels a little bad throwing Jensen’s words back at him and dismissing Genevieve fears, but he really doesn’t like it that they’re both on the same team on this one. Jensen’s supposed to be the one getting jealous, damn it, not him!

As the car gets closer to the motorcyclist, Jared makes out the blond hair styled to look artfully messy and held back with a bandana. The guy’s lean with handsome features, as far as Jared can tell – angular face and a slight scruff giving him the bad boy look. The guy’s got a slight smirk, a knowing look on his face as though he knows that the people in the car are arguing about him.

“Jared you don’t get it,” Jensen says, his voice pressing and pleading at the same time. Jared’s got half a mind to just do as he says. “It says in the script that a guy is going to ask for a ride. Everything that’s written in the script is happening. So unless we want to end up monster chow soon, we gotta beat the script. And the only way to do that is to go right when it says left.”

Jared stares open-mouthed at Jensen to see if he is actually serious. Jensen looks like he is, not slightly bothered by the fact that they’ve got company and that he sounds absolutely insane. “Are you insane?” Jared blurts out before he can think better of it. A shimmer of hurt passes through Jensen’s eyes but he composes himself quickly.

“Trust me on this, Jared.”

“No,” Jared whispers. “I’m not fuelling this fantasy of yours, Jensen.” Jared slows the car to a halt a couple of feet from the motorcyclist despite Jensen and Genevieve’s “No, Jared, please”. Jared will admit that the number of coincidences that have occurred in the last 12 hours alone makes the situation creepy as hell, but that’s all there is to it, isn’t there? Just coincidence. Jensen needs to see that.

 _Jared_ needs to see that. He needs to see it for himself that a horror movie script isn’t coming to life and picking up a guy on the highway doesn’t mean signing his death sentence.

“Hey, my bike broke down,” the motorcyclist says when he reaches the car. “Any chance I could hitch a ride with you guys?”

Jared can feel Jensen scowling beside him, holding his body ready as if gearing up for a fight. Genevieve behind him is tense, her hand still firmly holding Jared’s backrest. “Sure, hop in,” Jared says.

The tense silence in the car after the motorcyclist gets in, lasts for five minutes. “Hi, I’m Chad Michael Murray,” the guy opens. Jared can just hear Jensen thinking, _Unless you are Neil Patrick Harris, saying your full name makes you sound douche-y._

“I’m Jared Padalecki,” Jared says to which Chad snorts.

“I know who you are Mr. Charming. And Mr. Grumpy beside you must be Jensen Ackles.” Jensen’s eyes widen comically and his face turns absolutely murderous. Chad doesn’t notice him. “And who are you… Snow White?” he asks turning to Genevieve with a smile that is anything but subtle.

“Genevieve Cortese,” Gen replies tersely.

“Even better,” Chad says. “I like my women tanned.” Looks like there was some truth in Genevieve’s words, after all.

“Chad,” Jared interrupts the guy’s blatant eye-fucking of Genevieve. “Genevieve says you misbehaved with her, made some crude gestures.”

Chad looks genuinely confused, his arrogant, blue eye deep in thought as though he were remembering the faces of every girl he misbehaved with that day. Jared is already regretting giving the guy a ride. “Oh, that!” Chad says cheerfully. “I’m really sorry,” he says, sounding not the least bit apologetic. “That was maybe a little out of the line, but I can’t help it. When I see a beautiful woman, I _have_ to express my appreciation, somehow.”

Jared narrows his eyes. He sees a muscle twitch in Jensen’s jaw and he knows Jensen’s as pissed off as he is. The two of them might live the Hollywood playboy style, but they’ve never been disrespectful towards a woman. They were raised better than that. Jared looks at Genevieve to see if she is uncomfortable in anyway. Chad is trying to lean into Genevieve’s personal space, but the stupid manuscript that Jensen’s carrying around separates them. Genevieve doesn’t look so bothered anymore. She just looks annoyed. Jared is ready to ask Chad to get out of the car if he sees any sign of discomfort in Genevieve’s face, but the girl surprises him.

“It’s all right, I forgive you,” she says, shrugging her shoulders indifferently. She looks at Chad like she is seeing an extremely uninteresting dog and turns her head away to look out of the window.

Jared’s eyebrows touch his hairline and he turns to Jensen. Jensen’s got that surprised and slightly confused look on his face too, but he simply shrugs his shoulders.

“Thank you, sweetheart. But, I swear I won’t do something like that again if you are uncomfortable,” Chad says. He sounds genuine this time. Genevieve stays silent.

“So, Chad,” Jensen says, dragging out the name, not even trying to sound friendly. “Where can we drop you off?” If Chad hears the hostility in Jensen’s voice, he doesn’t seem affected by it. Jared on the other hand can clearly hear the actual meaning behind Jensen’s words. _When can we get rid of you?_

“I’m actually headed to a friend’s wedding,” Chad explains. “I was supposed to travel with a couple of friends. They left last night. I didn’t want to travel in a car at nighttime, you know what I mean?”

“No, I don’t,” Jensen says. “Still doesn’t answer my question.”

“Oh, I need to get to Larsen County.”

“We’re stopping at Bedford County,” Jensen says, a little too gleefully. “You’ll have to catch another ride from there.”

Chad’s shoulders slump a little. “Oh, well. At least Bedford isn’t the middle of nowhere.”

“Trust me, Bedford is no better than the middle of nowhere,” Jared says.

Chad looks a little alarmed now. “Damn! Won’t I be able to catch a ride there? A bus or something?”

“No, man, sorry,” Jared says, sympathetically.

Chad’s shoulders slump completely and he looks crestfallen. The arrogance in his blue eyes in now gone and he looks a little cute in a sad sort of way. “When’s the wedding?” Jared asks.

“Tomorrow afternoon,” Chad answers a little absently. “I gotta be there.”

“I’m sure the wedding will still happen with or without you,” Jensen says and Jared gives him a pointed look. Jensen just shrugs, unapologetic.

“I’m one of the groomsmen,” Chad mutters. “And the bride’s a bridezilla. She’ll eat me alive if there’s even a slight hitch in the wedding planning.”

Jared turns towards Jensen with a pleading look. Jensen frowns before realizing what’s going through Jared’s mind and he instantly becomes alarmed. _No_ , he shakes firmly. Jared goes for the kill and pulls the puppy eyes. Jensen resists for a little longer, alternating between shaking his head and glaring at Jared. Finally he gives in, like Jared knew he would. “Fine,” he says with an exaggerated puff and throws his hands into the air.

Jared chances a glance at the backseat and sees Chad and Genevieve frowning at the silent exchange. “We could drop you off at Cantrell Town,” Jared tells Chad. “You should be able to get a ride or a bus from there.”

The relief on Chad’s face is almost endearing. “You would do that? Thanks, man! I knew there was a reason the ladies love you.”

“Yeah, well, you’re welcome.”

“I should do something in return for you,” Chad muses.

“Nah, man. It’s cool.”

But Chad isn’t listening to him. “I know! I’ll tell your future.”

“With talents like fortunetelling, no doubt you are a real ladies man,” Jensen says, voice dripping with sarcasm. Chad, however, doesn’t get his feathers ruffled by that.

“I know what you are thinking, man, but you have no idea how much chicks dig the mystic stuff.”

Jensen opens his mouth, to say something biting Jared was sure, before Jared butts in. “Where’d you learn that stuff anyway?”

“My mom used see to this Indian Sage for advice on how to get her son on the ‘right path’,” he says, with the air quotes and all, “The guy, some Marshal or Maharsh or something, used to go on and on for hours about Nirvana and all that shit. I asked him if I’d get the 72 virgins if I was good boy and he said ‘no’. I stopped paying attention at that point.” Genevieve snorts at that. “The only time I listened was when he talked about how he could tell people’s future by looking at their palms. I thought it could be a useful skill to impress hotties with, so I asked him to teach me how to palm read.”

“That stuff isn’t real,” Genevieve says.

“Trust me, sweetheart, it is,” Chad drawls. “This one time when I was on a date with this pretty little blonde – dudes, the rack on her was big enough to hide my face in and I know because I tried it,” Chad says, moaning pornographically for emphasis. Jared’s face twists into a grimace and Jensen’s nose wrinkles in disgust. Jared doesn’t turn to look at her but he’s pretty sure Genevieve threw up in her mouth a little. “So, anyway, I read her palm and BOOM!” Jared jumps a little. “I knew she was headed for the graveyard. I told her that, I told her that she would die in 24 hours. The next day I find out that she pulled a one-woman Thelma and Louise. Still don’t know why she did it, though. Apparently she was a pretty well-adjusted girl.”

Chad probably thinks his story would be amusing or hilarious, but it just leaves a bad taste in Jared’s mouth and puts him on edge. He watches Jensen from the corner of his eye and sees that his best friend looks uncomfortable too.

“The sex must have been really awful if it made her give up on life,” Genevieve says dryly. Chad cackles like it was an especially funny joke and not an insult.

“I really, really like you,” he says.

“The feeling isn’t mutual.” Chad laughs some more.

“Give me – give me your hand,” Chad says, a little breathless from the laughing. Genevieve hesitates. “Aw, don’t be shy, baby.”

Genevieve reluctantly juts out her palm and Chad runs the pads of his fingers over the smooth skin. Genevieve squirms in her seat, but doesn’t try to pull her palm away. Right when the amount of contact is bordering on creepy, Chad lets go of Genevieve’s hand and says, “Don’t worry. You have no dangers ahead of you. For the next 24 hours, at least.”

Genevieve frowns and takes back her hand, looking at it herself like she’s trying to get her own reading. Chad turns to Jared. “Your turn, Mr. Hero.”

Jared holds the steering wheel with his right hand and crosses his left hand over his chest so Chad can look at it. The angle is awkward, but that’s the best he can manage right now. Chad tuts at him. “Left hand is for the ladies. I need to see your right hand,” the blond says.

The road is empty and Jared is going a little under the speed limit so Jared determines it okay to handle the steering wheel with his less used arm and extends his right hand backwards. Chad takes a hold of it, concentrating on his palm with a frown on his face and his tongue caught between his teeth. Jensen turns to look at him too. Finally, Chad pats his palm and says, “You’re good too, my boy. Mr. Director, will you do me the honor?”

Jensen looks uncomfortable and Jared thinks he will turn Chad down, but Jensen extends his right hand towards him. Chad holds Jensen’s palm with both hands and mutters, “interesting,” under his breath. Jensen frowns and Jared chances a glance at the palm too. Genevieve leans forward in her seat, staring at Jensen’s palm as well. It’s not like either of them can palm read, but Chad’s taking longer with Jensen’s palm than he did with the rest of them.

Jensen’s palm is calloused, his fingers thick. A blue vein runs about a couple of inches from his thumb and Jared can always feel Jensen’s pulse when he presses into it. There are a few cuts and scrapes, here and there and the lines on his palm run in spider-webbings, making his palm look like that of an old man. Other than that, Jared can’t see anything interesting on Jensen’s palm, but Chad is concentrating on it like he’s preparing for a final and Jensen’s palm has got all the answers to every question ever asked.

The tension stretches in the car, everyone holding their breaths, anxious to hear the verdict. Jared wonders if everyone else can feel it as well. He feels like an invisible hand is curling around them, squeezing and squeezing and squeezing until there’s no room left for their chests to expand, to _breathe_. Jared doesn’t even believe in this stuff, but for some reason he just _needs_ Chad to say that it will all be okay, like he said for Jared and Genevieve. If he doesn’t Jensen might get even more paranoid than he already looks.

“Yup! You’ll survive the next 24 hours,” Chad declares and Jensen actually looks relieved. What’s weirder is that Jared feels relieved as well. This is stupid.

“You’ll all live,” Chad continues. “I usually can’t see farther than the next 24 hours and I don’t exactly tell fortune. I’m not that good. I just see deaths and the dangers ahead. Like if I look at my hand, for example, I can see tha – ”

Chad cuts off suddenly and becomes absolutely quiet. Jared turns around and sees that all the color has drained out of Chad’s face and he is sheet white, his mouth agape and blue eyes wide as saucers. “No, no,” Chad breaths out. “No, no, no, no! Something’s going to happen. Something bad. Something really bad.”

A loud explosion shatters the reverie that Chad’s ramblings have pulled everyone into. Jared’s head snaps forward. Genevieve screams. Jared loses control of the car and severs to the side, crossing onto the next lane. “Jared!” Jensen screams. “Oh God, no,” someone says. Jared slams the breaks and the car comes to a screeching halt just off the road, a couple of feet away from being wrapped around a tree.

Jared sits still to catch his breath and he can hear his father’s voice in the back of his head. _Always keep your eyes on the road, Jared_ , he had said when he was teaching him how to drive. His dad wouldn’t be proud of him right now, not that he ever was. Jared turns to Jensen and finds Jensen glaring at him. He shrugs sheepishly and thinks about how he cares more about Jensen’s opinion of him than he ever did of his father’s.

“Everyone okay?” Jensen asks.

“What happened?” Genevieve asks, shakily.

“I think we busted the back tire,” Jared says. He leans out of the window to confirm his suspicions and yes, “it’s the driver’s side one.”

“God damnit!” Jensen curses, slamming a hand onto the dashboard, and Jared can see that the presence of company is only thing that’s stopping his friend from cussing out a blue streak.

“I’m cursed,” Genevieve says. Jared hears the ‘thump’ as her head hits her headrest. “I’m cursed. That’s the only explanation I’ve got.”

Chad is still annoyingly quiet, looking a little pale, slumped in his seat.

“On the bright side,” Jared says, his voice betraying how not-bright he is, “we’ve got a spare tire.”

**Scene 11**

Austin isn’t answering his phone. Neither is James.

“Son of a bitch,” Chad curses under his breath, flipping his phone shut.

If Chad’s past experience with his friends is anything to go by, Austin and James were probably getting high in their friend’s basement and fucking each other’s brains out. Come morning they’ll both pretend it meant nothing and go back to being sexually frustrated idiots.

Normally, this would amuse Chad. Maybe even make him a little sad for his two best friends but he’d never interfere with this routine. Austin and James needed to figure this out for themselves. Besides, Chad was never a fan of Harlequin romance.

Now it is grating on his nerves.

The tension in his chest wasn’t something he could put a name to or something that he could rub away. It sat there like a lead weight on his lungs making it difficult to take a full breath. It’s just a bad feeling you get right before everything goes to shit and you don’t see the signs until the damage is done. Only now, he could sense it already.

Nothing bad has happened yet but Chad is sure that it will. He sees bad omens everywhere – dark shadows turn into black cats, lowly hanging tree branches turn into ladders and the busted tire feels like a smashed mirror that is sure to bring him 7 years of bad luck. It was the same feeling he had in his gut that made him stay back last night while Austin and James left for the wedding in their truck. It’s the same feeling only ten times more menacing.

And that’s why he needs his friends. He wants to talk to his best friends, hear them say that his palm-reading crap is bullshit and that the bridesmaids were hot and _You better get here in time for the naked pillow fights, asshole. You’re missin’ out on the good stuff_.

If only they’d pick up their goddamned phones. Chad sighs and throws his phone into the backseat of the SUV and goes around to the driver’s side to see if he could help Jensen and Jared with the tire.

“Need any help?” he asks the crouching figure.

“Nah, I got it. Thanks,” Jared says without looking up and continues to loosen the nuts.

Jensen is standing on the shoulder, looking into the forest. Chad can see the tension in his shoulders. He looks like he is ready to snap and break any moment.

“Dude, you okay?” Chad asks when he approaches him.

Jensen cuts him a glance. “I’m fine, thanks.” Short and curt.

“Man, did I do something to offend you or something?” Chad asks. Jensen turns to look at him with a frown. “I can sense a tension between us, not the sweet kind,” Chad says with a smirk.

Jensen rolls his eyes. “Had enough of hitchhikers for one day, that’s all.”

Chad turns back to look at Genevieve, who is leaning against the car, eyes occasionally darting towards Jared. Jensen does not like Genevieve either, he can tell. _Hmm… Interesting._

Interesting, but not his business.

“Well, anyway, just wanted to say that I’m a big fan of your work. ‘What Is’ is one of the best movies ever made, in my opinion.”

Jensen raises an eyebrow, trying to contain a smile. “You don’t have to kiss my ass. We decided to haul you to Cantrell Town anyway.”

Chad laughs. “I wasn’t kissing your ass. I have to admit it’s a nice ass but I don’t like ‘em when they come attached to dicks.”

Jensen laughs out loud, his eyes crinkling in mirth. Some of the tension in his frame melts away. When he gets his breath under control he looks a little more friendly, a little less grumpy.

He claps Chad on the back as he passes him, moving towards the back of the car. Chad follows him. Looks like Jared has changed the tire and they were ready to go.

Chad’s heart sinks a little when he sees Jared pull out a cooler from the trunk and open a couple of bottles. Damn! He was really hoping they could get out of here as fast as possible. He couldn’t explain it but Chad really needed to see his friends right away. Something wasn’t right and Chad wouldn’t be able to relax until he’s sure his friends are alright.

Still he sucks it up and accepts a beer with a smile. He might be a douchebag but he’s not rude.

“You get in touch with your friends yet?” Jensen asks.

Chad looks up in surprise. Jensen was being civil to him. “Can’t reach ‘em,” Chad says with a shrug. “They are probably stoned off their asses.” At least he hopes they are.

“Who the hell would even want to be your friends?” Genevieve asks. “I’d love to meet those unique people who have such high tolerance for bullshit.” Chad can’t detect any malice in her voice so he laughs it off and pulls out his phone.

“Here,” he says showing them a picture of himself with his friends. “This is James and that’s Austin. My best bros. We’re pretty tight. They put up with my _bullshit_ , as you put it, and I put up with theirs.”

Chad then smirks. “Kinda like Padalecki here puts up with Ackles’ grumpy ass.”

Jared laughs his fully bellied laugh that the fan girls go gaga over. Jensen looks annoyed but his eyes track Jared as he laughs while he tries to fight a smile.

He sees a celebrity version of James and Austin in them, full of sexual tension and shit. It only makes him miss his friends more.

“Shall we hit the road then?”

“Yes, it’s getting late, we should get going,” Genevieve says.

“Right,” Jensen says, climbing into the driver’s seat. Jared and Genevieve follow him into the car but something makes Chad stop and look into the woods. He feels restless and anxious for no reason. He feels like he is leaving behind something and running into something ugly.

He ignores his instincts and gets into the car.

It’s dark by the time they reach the outskirts of Bedford County. Jensen stops the car at a back road that leads into the forest. “This is our stop,” he says to both Chad and Genevieve. “There won’t be any buses running at this time of the night. You should crash with us. I’ll drive you both to Cantrell Town first thing tomorrow morning.”

Genevieve says its fine with her but Chad really needs to get to Larsen. “Thanks guys but I think I’ll see if I can hitch another ride,” Chad says, collecting his bags.  
“The wedding is tomorrow and I need to be there early.”

“You’re gonna get off here?” Jared asks him.

“I’ll be fine. Some poor, unsuspecting soul will pick me up,” Chad says, feigning nonchalance. Truth is, he needs to get away, away, away. He needs to run.

He stops to say goodbye to Jared and Jensen.

“Take care, alright?” Jared says.

“Wait, I have a torch you can borrow,” Jensen says, pulling out a small, plastic flashlight from the glove compartment.

Chad checks to see if it’s working. “Thanks, man. I’ll send it back to you in fanmail.”

Jensen laughs. “You can keep it. It’s yours.” They shake hands and Chad feels a small undercurrent of fear. This time he is afraid _for Jensen_.

“In return for you generosity I’ll give you one last prediction, Ackles,” Chad says. He is proud of how cool and collected his voice is. Jensen’s smiles wavers and he looks uncertain but interested. He half hopes Jensen would say he didn’t want to hear any more of that stuff. Sometimes not knowing is bliss.

Chad takes a deep breath and speaks in his best mystic voice. “In the next 24 or so hours, you will either gain something that you want very badly or lose something very important. It all depends on how you handle the situation.”

Jensen seems frozen in time, staring at Chad with something like fear in his eyes, before composing himself. “Thanks, I guess?” he says with a forced smile.

“Well I gotta be moving now. Have fun boys.” He ducks a little to catch Genevieve’s face. “See you around, pretty woman.”

Genevieve doesn’t even smile but when Chad is walking away, he hears her say, “Be careful, Chad.” Just three words. Innocent and friendly but they sound like a death sentence.

Chad hears the car’s engine start up. He doesn’t look back and keeps walking. He stops a small distance away from where the road forked into the forest and resolutely keeps his back turned towards that direction. He doesn’t know how long it’s been since he got off the car but he doesn’t hear its engine anymore.

The night is still and quiet and Chad waits.

He doesn’t wait long.

Chad jumps out of his skin, a scream stuck in his throat and his muscles all clamped up in fear, when the hand lands on his shoulder.

“Whoa! Dude, it’s me.”

Heart beating away erratically, pumping adrenaline into his bloodstream mercilessly, Chad turns around to find Genevieve standing behind him.

“What the fuck! You scared the shit out of me,” Chad screams in a hoarse voice.

Genevieve backs up with her hands in the air. She doesn’t even pretend to look apologetic. “I just came back to give you this.” She holds out Chad’s phone in her long fingers.

Chad snatches it from her, avoiding skin contact. “Thanks,” he says, his voice shaking. Genevieve smiles wide at him. In the darkness of the night she looks like a wolf on prowl. Chad wonders how he ever found her beautiful.

“Thanks,” Chad says again. This time Genevieve gets the hint and starts walking back the way she came. She keeps stopping now and then to turn around and look at Chad until she turns and enters the forest through the back road.

Chad breathes a sigh of relief.

He wants to run back, to find Jared and Jensen, to find courage in company but his feet root him to the spot. Cold sweat drips down his face. His hands shake as he pulls his t-shirt up to his face. The back of his hand brushes a little lump in his pockets and it crinkles. He digs it out and sees that it’s a piece of rolled up paper. He frowns at it, his hands fumbling as he tries to open it. His heart starts beating faster again and Chad finds himself almost on the verge of tears.

The paper is empty, brownish. To Chad, it shows his future. Empty and bloody.

He never hears the attacker approaching or sees the axe coming. He doesn’t feel it as his body hits the ground because he dies before his knees buckle.

The cause of death isn’t the axe to his skull. It’s a heart attack born out of fear. Sometimes not knowing is bliss.

 


	3. ACT III

**Scene 12**

The first thing Jensen and Jared did after their first movie became a blockbuster hit was to buy a cabin in the woods. Having a tiny space, away from the prying eyes of the world and nestled in Mother Nature’s cradle, was always a dream that they shared. They often used to talk about the stuff they’d decorate their cabin with – postcards from all the places they’ve been, pictures of their family (though that particular part had been eliminated over the years), a stuffed sword fish, posters of their favorite bands ( _“Obviously Metallica will occupy the place of pride over the fire mantle.” “Dude, they are the greatest hits of mullet rock. Grow with the times.” “Gah! You take that back, right now.”_ ).

They’d have an open plan kitchen with state-of-the-art equipment, comfortable furniture, plenty of natural lighting so that both Jensen and Jared could indulge in two of their favorite things: cooking and eating, respectively. In the living room they’d have a corner for Jared’s piano and a wall full of Jensen’s guitars with his favorite acoustic guitar taking the centre stage. There would also be a huge shelf to house their never ending DVD collection, arranged in the order of awesomeness. There’d be a hammock and a swing outside the house, tied to the large sturdy branches of the trees in the forest.

Jensen used to joke about how they were turning into two chicks dreaming about their perfect home sweet home, but Jared knew that Jensen imagined the two of them growing old together and sitting on rocker chairs on the cabin’s front porch as well.

The cabin in the woods nestled between the Sequoia National Forest and the Inyo National Forest matches their imaginations to a T, rocker chairs included.

Getting off the highway, Jensen drives down a straight road into the woods for about 2 miles before the road curves sharply to the right. The road opens into a large clearing, in the middle of which is a wooden cabin. A stream of fresh water cuts through the forest here and it separates the clearing from the road. There’s a sturdy wooden bridge built over it, wide enough and strong enough for an SUV to pass. Jensen crosses the bridge and parks in front of the house.

“Wow!” Genevieve exclaims as she gets out of the car. Her eyes roam over the façade of the two story structure. From the outside, it’s nothing more than a charming wood house. Surrounded by trees in every direction with the tinkling sound of a flowing stream, it looks like something out of a fairytale – a manly fairytale, of course.

The house has an elevated foundation, steps leading up to the bright red front door. A screened porch runs around the entire house. The first floor has large windows to let lots of natural light and air in. The cabin had three bedrooms and an open plan. The living room, the kitchen and the dining/breakfast area, all combine to form a large main room. On one side of the living room were two bedrooms – Jensen and Jared’s – with attached full bathrooms. On the other side were the guest bedroom, a full bathroom and stairs leading to the second floor. The second floor is more of a very large attic than anything else with its slopping roofs but has a terrace.

Jensen can’t help but feel proud of Genevieve’s awe of the house. The house is his baby, his and Jared’s dream. “You like it?” he asks.

“Yeah,” she answers, slightly in a daze, still looking at the house. “Is this yours?”

“Mine and Jared’s.”

“It’s our pride and joy,” Jared answers cheerfully, pulling out his luggage.

“You own this house together?” Genevieve asks. “Isn’t that a couple-y thing to do?”

“Uh-” Jensen stammers, cursing the blush rising on his cheeks. He thanks his lucky stars that the night is moonless and it’s dark enough that no one can see his blush.

“It’s more of bachelor thing, really,” Jared says. “This is our man-cave and usually this is a vagina-free zone. So, enjoy your stay here. Not many get to witness the awesomeness that is The J2 Cabin.”

“Oooh! I’m honored.” Genevieve swings her bag onto her shoulders and follows Jared up the few steps. Jared uses his key to let them in and Jensen follows them with his bags.

“Misha!” he calls out as soon as he enters the house. There’s no answer.

“Who’s Misha?” Genevieve asks.

“Jensen’s pet,” Jared says and sniggers.

“Jared!” Jensen drags out the name in a reprimand. “He is the housekeeper. Looks after the place when we aren’t here,” he answers Genevieve’s question.

“He stays here all year long while you are in LA?”

“Yeah.”

“Doesn’t it get a little lonely in these parts?” she asks.

“Misha’s a recluse. One of those weird hermit types,” Jared replies.

“No, he’s not,” Jensen says. Jared’s always disliked Misha – something about wanting the house to belong to only the two of them – but having a housekeeper is kinda necessary since their actual residences are in LA. “Misha’s a local. He has his own home in the town. When we aren’t around he comes over thrice a week to make sure everything’s in order. When we are here he lives with us.”

“Misha!” Jensen calls again. “Where the hell are you?” he shouts standing at the bottom of the stairs. There’s no light upstairs and the bottom floor looks empty. “Where the hell is this idiot?” he mutters under his breath.

“Why don’t you guys settle into your rooms, I’ll see where Misha is,” he tells Genevieve and Jared. Jared nods and heads over to his usual bedroom, right next to Jensen’s. Genevieve stands in the living room, shifting on her feet, looking at him expectantly. Jensen points to the bedroom opposite to Jared’s. “That’s your room,” he tells her. “You’ll find fresh sheets and towels in there. The bathroom’s the one next to yours. Jared and I have our en-suites, but you’ll have to share with Misha.”

Genevieve nods tightly, looking a little displeased and goes into her bedroom and slams the door shut.

“Okay…” Jensen mutters and goes to look for Misha. He doesn’t find the guy upstairs so Jensen decides that he must be outside and hollers out to him from the backdoor. Jensen doesn’t bother to go out to look for Misha, sure that the housekeeper would return as soon as he heard his voice. If he couldn’t hear Jensen’s voice that meant Misha was deep into the forest and there’s no use for Jensen to go into the forest at this time of the night.

Jensen doesn’t bother turning on the lights in the kitchen. It’s been an exceptionally long day and he is about ready to drop dead where he stands. He doesn’t think he can do much more than crash right now. He opens the refrigerator and drinks some water in long gulps. The house has already quieted down, Jared and Genevieve, no doubt, already having hit the sack. Jensen wonders for one more moment if he should go looking for Misha, but exhaustion kills that thought very quickly.

He replaces the water bottle, shuts the refrigerator door and jumps out of his skin when he spots a man standing in the shadows behind the door.

Heart thundering, hand on his chest, still heaving for breath Jensen gasps, “Misha! You scare the shit out of me.”

“Sorry, Mr. Jensen. I was out back when you called.”

Jensen squints at the man standing in front of him while he regains his breath. “Didn’t hear you come in,” he says.

“I’ve been taking lessons on how to walk silently like a cat,” Misha says, nodding once like it should make all the sense to Jensen.

“From who?”

“From my neighbor’s cat,” Misha answers, finally stepping into the light.

The man has a crazy, almost peaceful look in his squinty blue eyes, like he’s found nirvana already. His lips are upturned into the perpetual smile which can be endearing or creepy depending on the circumstances. His black hair is disheveled and the white Kurta, which seems to comprise the man’s entire wardrobe, is wrinkled with dirt stains here and there.

Yup! It’s Misha, all right. And he still talks to animals. Some things never change.

“Shall I put your luggage in your room, Mr. Jensen?” Misha asks.

Jensen nods and follows the man as he walks silently, like a cat – the lessons must be paying off – about the house. “We have a guest. A lady called Genevieve,” Jensen says. “She’s in the guest bedroom.”

“How long will Ms. Genevieve be staying here, sir?”

Jensen frowns, ‘cause he doesn’t know. Logically he knows that Genevieve should be on her way tomorrow morning. But somehow it feels like the brunette wants to become a permanent fixture in the house. “Don’t know. She’ll probably leave tomorrow.”

Misha says nothing to acknowledge his words and doesn’t ask any questions about why they suddenly decided it was okay to bring guests to their cabin. Jensen is grateful for that. “We won’t have dinner tonight,” he tells Misha once the guy places his luggage in his bedroom. “Lock up and go to sleep after you eat. Don’t go roaming in the forest. What were you doing out there in the dark, anyway?”

“I was counting bees,” Misha answers straight-faced.

“Uh-uh. And why were you doing that?”

“I think there’s a storm coming.”

Jensen stares at Misha’s impassive face for a beat longer. With no more explanation coming forth, he gives up. He had long decided to not try to understand Misha’s ways anyway. He’ll drive himself mad otherwise. “Yeah, whatever. I’m beat. So make tomorrow’s breakfast if I don’t wake up early enough.”

“Yes, Mr. Jensen. Is that all?”

“Yeah.” Misha nods once, says good night and leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

The bed in his room is a California King with memory foam. The sheets are soft and inviting and the blankets have an insanely high thread count. Jensen could probably sleep like a baby once he hits the mattress. And he wants to, _god_ does he want to. He is so exhausted that his calves hurt with every step he takes.

But there’s a calling greater than exhaustion and it pulls him towards his luggage. He had retrieved the manuscript book from the backseat of the car and stuffed into one of his bags earlier. He opens the bag and pulls out the book, running his fingertips over it reverently. He wants to read the script again – the few pages that are readable, anyway. He wants to understand the characters better. He wants to know Dean better. Hell, he wants to _be_ Dean.

Jensen thinks he understands Dean, his urge to keep Sam close to him, to protect his little brother. He understands where the sense of entitlement comes from. He has a right over the kid, damn it. Sam belongs with _him_ , not some dark-haired chick who knows shit about him. He knows everything about Sam, had practically raised the kid. If anyone has any right over Jared, it’s him. Sam is Dean’s. Jared is _his_.

Jensen’s head swims with the sudden wave of possessiveness that hits him and he has to keep a hand on the table to steady himself. His limbs itch with the urge to march over to Jared’s room and cover him full of bruises and marks. Jensen drops the book and clutches the table edge with both hands to stop himself from going into Jared’s room and just _taking_ him without bothering with issues of consent.

He doesn’t trust himself to move so he stands there, tears filling his eyes as frustration rears its ugly head. His body fights against him, the dark thing deep inside him screaming to be let out. He lets it lose and it shows him how it could be.

Jared never locks his room so Jensen slips right in. Jared’s awake; he doesn’t bat an eyelid at Jensen’s arrival. He says, _What’s up, Jen? Need something._ Jensen hears, _Need something Jensen? I’ll give you anything_. A rush of arousal courses through him and he feels his dick grow half-hard. _Yeah, I need you_ , he rasps. _What?_ Jared looks so adorable in his loose fitting pajamas. He looks absolutely delicious and Jensen’s going to eat him up. _Need you, Jared_ He locks the door behind him as he advances into the room. Jared doesn’t get what’s happening, yet. _Need you so bad._

Jensen walks right up to Jared captures his mouth in a bruising kiss, teeth clattering and lips sliding. He has Jared’s face in his hands and he holds him still in a painful grip as he plunders his mouth, teeth nipping at his lower lip, sucking on his tongue, never relenting control for a single second. Jared struggles, oh he struggles so beautifully. His lithe body writhes in Jensen’s hold; the friction it causes on his dick is the sweetest form of torture.

He pushes at Jensen’s chest, tries to say something but Jensen is stronger, desire and lust fueling him, the darkness egging him on. He pushes Jared onto the mattress and that’s when Jared begins panicking. He thrashes, he kicks out. Jensen forgives him instantly for each blow and each forming bruise. He loves Jared, could never be angry with him. Besides, it’s not like he isn’t going to give as good as he gets.

Before Jared can understand what’s happening, Jensen frees him of his pants. He relinquishes his hold on Jared’s lips in favor of ridding him of his t-shirt. _Jensen, what are you doing? Please. Get off me. Jensen!_ A harsh smack to the cheek cuts off Jared’s screams as blood fills his mouth. Jensen traps Jared’s hands behind him in the t-shirt and kisses him again. He tastes blood and he moans. Jared’s blood enters his mouth, fires up every nerve and he grows hard enough to cut diamonds.

He doesn’t bother with removing his pants – just pulls his dick out. He doesn’t thrust into Jared without any prep like he wants to. This is about showing Jared who he belongs to, not about hurting him. That means Jared’s got to enjoy it too. He opens Jared up on his fingers and spit. He pushes in slowly, giving Jared time to adjust. All the while Jared is screaming and screaming for help, to stop. _Jensen, please_. After a while the screams turn into sobs. That’s when Jensen starts thrusting with vigor. He has a hand on Jared’s cock and he rubs him to hardness.

Jensen screams as he comes, filling Jared up. Jared doesn’t come. He gets hard but doesn’t come. Well, there’s always a next time. Jared will learn soon enough. By the time he’s done Jared’s body is covered in sweat, come, scratches, bites and bruises. He had drawn blood in a few places. _Good_. Jared’s eyes are lifeless and unseeing as they stare at the ceiling. He’s dead quiet. _Jared?_ He doesn’t respond, but he’s breathing. So, Jensen doesn’t worry. He’s sated and the darkness in him purrs with satisfaction. He falls on the bed beside Jared and pulls the younger man into his arms.

The house is dead silent except for the tick-tock of the clock and the hum of the washing machine.

Jensen gasps as he comes to. Tears streaming down his cheeks he races to the bathroom. He turns on the light and examines himself in the mirror. His pants are closed and his lips aren’t kiss swollen. There are no bruises from where Jared hit him. He’s drenched in sweat, but it’s cold sweat. He’s shaking from head to toe. His eyes are red-rimmed from being startled awake. He doesn’t feel like he’s had an orgasm. He doesn’t feel sated and he most certainly doesn’t feel happy.

It’s only then does he notices the silence of the house. There are no clocks ticking, no washing machines working. He sees that he is standing in _his_ bathroom and a quick glance outside tells him that it’s _his_ room. The bedroom door is shut and the book is on the table. Everything is as he left it. He listens hard to see if he can hear Jared moving around but he can’t. Everything is quiet; too quiet.

A fresh wave of tears accompanies the nausea. Jensen holds onto the porcelain toilet as he pukes his guts out and kneels there, on the cold tiles, long after the dry heaves have subsided. Sobs tear out of his chest, twisting his insides and cutting his throat as they come out. Jensen shuts his eyes tight enough that he sees colors dancing behind the eyelids but he still can’t erase the image of Jared’s broken face. _No, no, no,_ Jensen’s mind keeps saying but his lips can’t form the words. Jensen lets his head drop between his shoulders and cries some more.

His knees crack audibly as he stands up, after what feels like an eternity. Looking at himself in the mirror, Jensen doesn’t recognize what he sees. The man in front of him is a stranger, with a haunted look in his eyes, the weight of horrible nightmares pulling his shoulders down. He looks pale, haggard, like death warmed over.

“What the fuck is happening to me?” His voice shakes as he asks. Jensen doesn’t have an answer.

Jensen could go to Jared, tell him what’s happening. He could ask for help, but that would mean telling Jared what he dreamt about. What if Jared thinks that somewhere deep down Jensen wanted to do that to him? Jensen couldn’t bear to look at the trust shattering in Jared’s eyes. He’d rather die.

 _I’m so sorry, Jared,_ he thinks, one hand splayed on the bathroom wall, trying to feel Jared on the other side. _I don’t want that. I’d cut my dick off before I do something like that. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry._

But more than anything, Jensen is scared to go out – to find out that his nightmare wasn’t a nightmare after all. So, he sobs quietly and pukes some more but doesn’t ask for help. He doesn’t deserve any help.

That night Jensen locks his bedroom door, locks himself in his bathroom for good measure and sleeps in his tub.

He dreams of fire and ashes.

**Scene 13**

That morning Jared finds Misha in the kitchen, making breakfast. The alluring smell of waffles and coffee tickle his senses.

“Where’s Jensen?” he asks.

“In his room,” Misha answers. “Want breakfast, Mr. Jared?”

Jared frowns. “Why are you making breakfast?”

“Mr. Jensen asked me to. He said he might be too tired to wake up.”

Jared nods, trying not to grow too concerned. Jensen was fine last night. He didn’t look like he was coming down with something. Maybe he really is just tired.

“I’ll eat with Jensen,” he tells Misha. He begins pouring coffee into two cups, one black and one so full of cream and sugar it would send any dentist into a fit. “Is Genevieve awake?”

“She woke up pretty early, or didn’t sleep at all,” Misha says. “She’s gone out for a run.”

Jared raises an eyebrow to himself. Genevieve looks fit and toned. So it’s no surprise that she works out regularly. But Jared does find it surprising that Genevieve would go running in a forest she knows nothing about.

“I’ll take this to Jensen,” he says to Misha for no apparent reason. Misha says nothing as he heads towards Jensen’s room. Jensen thinks Jared is jealous of Misha but that’s far from the truth. He likes Misha enough to be on civil terms with him. He even finds the guy interesting, but he has to admit that the blue-eyed man, his crazy talk and weird silences creep him out sometimes.

Jared stands in front of the closed bedroom door, trying to figure out the puzzle of knocking on a door while holding two cups of scalding hot coffee. Thankfully, the door opens before he can burn himself.

Jensen stands in the door way, hair whichever way, still in the same clothes from last night only more rumpled. He looks pale, his eyes are red-rimmed and if Jared didn’t know any better he’d say Jensen was up all night crying his eyes out. He looks at Jared with wide eyes like he is seeing a ghost and his shoulders sag with an emotion that looks suspiciously like relief.

“Jare,” Jensen croaks out. He voice is raw and scratchy. Ignoring the two hot cups of coffee Jared is holding, Jensen launches himself at the taller man and hugs him tight. Jared holds the cups as far away from their bodies as possible and stands absolutely still while Jensen holds him to his fill. He thinks he hears Jensen sob but Jensen is backing away before he can confirm that, looking like he had just kicked a dead puppy.

“Sorry. I’m sorry,” Jensen murmurs.

Jared frowns. He had wanted to make some comment about Jensen hugging him with sweaty clothes covered with grime from all their travelling, about needing another shower now, but he wisely holds his tongue when he looks at Jensen. “It’s okay, dude,” he tells Jensen softly.

Jensen nods to himself and closes his eyes, dry washing his face with his hands. When he looks up he looks marginally better and composed, but closed off. “Uh, I smelled coffee,” he says, wincing at the sound of his own voice.

Jared wordlessly holds out the black coffee and Jensen mutters his thanks. “You look like shit, man,” he says when the two of them have comfortably seated themselves in the living room.

“Jeez, don’t sugar coat it,” Jensen mutters.

“What happened? Are you sick or something?”

Jared moves to touch Jensen’s forehead but reins himself in when Jensen flinches like he’s been slapped. He doesn’t meet Jared’s eyes when he says, “No. Not sick. Just tired, I guess. Didn’t sleep too well last night.”

“Wanna try running that again by me, Jensen? I know you are bullshitting me. You’ve never had trouble sleeping in the cabin.”

“Well, I guess there’s a first time for everything, huh?” Jensen answer is so flippant and sarcastic that Jared knows he won’t get anything more out of the older man even if he presses hard. For the first time, Jared’s beginning to think that there may be some truth behind the rumors about Jensen being depressed. His mood swings are beginning scare even Jared and that’s saying much because Jared has dealt with a lifetime of Jensenisms.

Jared decides to change tactics. “Look, I was thinking that we could maybe go into town? Or maybe go camping out in the forest? Just you and me. Misha could drop Genevieve off at Cantrell Town. She can catch a bus from there. We could spend the day together…” Jared trails off.

Whatever color had been returning to Jensen’s cheeks from the heat of the coffee drains away and Jensen tenses up. He holds his coffee cup tight enough that even a slight increase in pressure would shatter the cup. Jared puts his own cup aside and scrambles to pull the coffee cup out of the death hold Jensen’s got on it. It turns out to be easier than he thought it would since Jensen seems to be frozen in fear and doesn’t put up any resistance. That is, until Jared starts speaking.

Jensen’s hands are already red from holding onto the scalding cup and Jared rubs a soothing palm over them. “Jesus, Jensen, look what you’ve done.” His voice comes thin and panicky and Jensen freaks out.

“Get the fuck away from me!” he screams as he pulls his hands out of Jared’s hold and trips over his feet in his hurry to put distance between him and Jared.

“Jensen, you are scaring me.”

Jensen flinches like he’s been whipped, but as soon as any real emotion begins to bleed into his face he schools his expression into a hard mask.

“Yeah? You are annoying me.”

Jared knows Jensen doesn’t mean that, knows that something’s up, but that doesn’t lessen the hurt those words cause him. Jensen’s never said those words so harshly before. “I know you don’t mean that. Something’s wrong. Jensen, please. Let me help.”

“Ever wonder if you are what’s wrong? I don’t need your help Jared. I just need you to leave me alone.”

“You are saying that to hurt me, but it won’t work,” Jared tells him firmly.

“What will? I’ve been trying to get rid of you for years now and nothing’s working. So tell me what will. I am so sick and tired Jared. You wanna know why I haven’t slept well? That’s because you dragged me out here into the middle of nowhere I can’t get any work done. I hate this cabin and this stupid forest and I hate you for forcing me into this.”

Jensen looks as shocked as Jared feels at the end of his word vomit. The two of them stand at the opposite sides of the living room and stare each other down with wide eyes. Jared can see Misha standing in the kitchen, frozen with a dishrag in his hands. The usually composed, impassive face of the man is twisted into shock as he takes in the scene in front of him.

Jensen is the first to break contact and turn away. The tears don’t form in Jared’s eyes until Jensen slams his bedroom door shut.

**Scene 14**

Genevieve finds Jared sitting on the front porch steps with his head in his hands. She resists a smile. Jared looks beautiful, even in sorrow.

“Penny for your thoughts?” she says as she sits beside him on the steps. Jared gives her a half-hearted smile and shakes his head.

“My thoughts don’t come that cheap.”

“How about a dollar?” she asks. “That’s as high as I’ll go.”

“Nah, I’ll pass. Miser.”

They sit in comfortable silence. The trees around them are brim with life, the branches trying to reach sky high. The thick canopy of the forest leaves the roads and trails in darkness, but here in the clearing, the sun shines down on the cabin, rays of light tumbling in like a scene out of a painting. The air is cool and crisp and rustles the leaves. Jared’s hair blows in the wind and Genevieve smells his aftershave and lemongrass scented shampoo.

“What were you doing out so early?” Jared asks, eventually breaking the silence. “You could easily get lost in the woods, you know.”

“I like the great outdoors,” she says. “I like discovering new routes and exploring my surroundings.” Not really. Genevieve hates the outdoors, actually, but it always pays off to know the terrain one’s in. It might come handy for the next part of her plan.

“Hm,” Jared makes a non-committal noise. “So, do you want me to drop you off at Cantrell Town? You could catch a bus to Salt Creek from there.”

Genevieve once had parents in Salt Creek. They are dead now. “I was actually thinking I could call my mother and ask her to send me a cab or something? I’m not really fond of travelling by bus.”

“Well, you won’t get any reception here, but there’s a telephone booth in the town. I could take you there.”

“That’d be great. You guys have done so much for me already. I can’t thank you enough.”

“It’s fine, really,” Jared says and she knows enough about him by now to see that he means it.

35 minutes later Genevieve is standing in a phone booth, talking into a dial tone, while Jared waits outside by the car.

“Yeah, mom, I know. I did get that stupid piece of metal serviced before I left. I don’t know what went wrong. Listen, I’m crashing at a friend’s house while my car’s being fixed. It’s going to take me two more days to get there. Yeah, mom. No, mom. I’ll talk to you later, mama. Bye.”

Jared is standing outside with his arms crossed over his chest. Genevieve knows he just heard every word she said. “You haven’t called anyone to get your car fixed.”

“I know, I will,” Genevieve lies. “I just wanted to stall going to my parents’ house as long as possible. I told you, didn’t I? I hate it there…”

“You hate it there and they don’t even have internet,” Jared talks over her. “Yeah, I know, but this is no city, either. You said you were a journalist and yet, you didn’t recognize Jensen. You seem to have a habit of lying about everything. So, tell me, who the hell are you exactly?”

Jared’s eyes are hard as steel. She had expected that. Genevieve dramatically slumps her shoulder, bites her bottom lip and rubs a hand over the back of her neck – all practiced gestures of nervousness. “You are right,” she admits. “I’m not a journalist. I’m just a nobody with a college degree in business management, but _you_ … You are Jared Padalecki, one of the most talent actors of this decade and that guy in the cabin is Jensen Ackles, one of the most acclaimed directors of _all time_.” The controlled awe in her voice is so fake that Lindsey Lohan’s face looks more real in comparison, but it sounds genuine enough that she could give Oscar speeches with that voice.

“I’ve never met celebrities like the two of you. I’ve always dreamt about it and saw a few stars from a distance at conventions and concerts but that’s it. And imagine my luck running into the two of you.” She snorts internally. Luck had nothing to do with it. “You guys are so genuine and down to earth and friendly, like everyone keeps thinking you are, but I get to experience it firsthand! I just wanted to have that a little while longer. I know I haven’t been the most honest person, Jared but this is the God’s honest truth.” She makes her eyes big and wet, pleading with him to believe.

Jared eats it all up, like she knew he would. He looks torn for a moment, unsure of what to do. Then, he sighs and shrugs his shoulders. “Fine! But you call your mechanic right now and get your car fixed. You’ll have to leave tomorrow.”

Genevieve lets out a happy squeal. “Thank you, Jared. Thank you. Thank you, so much!” She makes one more fake phone call and tells Jared that her ‘guy’ would bring the car around tomorrow evening and she’ll be out of their hair by nightfall. Jared agrees with a smile that people give while indulging little kids. Genevieve mentally pats herself on the back for a job well done. Tomorrow evening would give her enough time to put all the pieces into position.

_I’m not going anywhere until I finish what I came here to do._

“Are we going back to the cabin?” Genevieve asks before she gets into the car.

Jared checks his phone and frowns at it before putting it away. He sits in the driver seat with eyes far away and hands set firmly on the steering wheel. “Don’t know. I don’t wanna go back there,” he says, almost to himself like he doesn’t remember Genevieve’s in the car with him.

“Did you and Jensen fight?” she asks softly. This time her interest isn’t feigned.

“How did you know?” Jared asks, turning to her with wide, puppy eyes.

Genevieve shrugs. “You look like your wife just put you in the dog house.”

Jared glares at her for the bad analogy. “What? You do!” she insists. Jared gives her a half-smile.

“Wives are easy,” he says. “Stupid, macho, best friends who won’t talk are hard.”

“So, you did fight.”

“Yeah, it was horrible.”

“It couldn’t have been that bad,” she says, hoping it was.

“It is bad. Jensen said some shit.”

“I’m sure he didn’t mean it. You guys are thick.”

“He didn’t mean it,” Jared says, his tone almost defensive. “But that’s the problem, isn’t it? Something’s wrong with him and he won’t talk to me, unless he is lashing out at me. And I don’t know how to help him –”

Jared cuts himself off. “God, I’m such an idiot. Now, I’m dumping all my shit on you.” He groans and smacks his head to the steering wheel once. “Sorry.”

“Hey, it’s all right,” Genevieve says. “I don’t mind hearing you out. And I want to help in any way I can. I already owe you guys a lot. You literally saved my life. This is the least I could do. Besides, you look like you could use an ear.”

“Gen, you don’t owe us anything,” Jared tells her firmly. “We did what any responsible human being would do. But yeah, you are right. I could use an ear.”

“Lay it on me, then.”

“Ugh! Where do I start?”

“At the beginning.”

Jared takes a deep breath before rambling on. “There’ve been these rumors lately in the industry that Jensen is getting increasingly difficult to work with, that he’s letting his success get to his head. But Jen isn’t like that. He’s the most humble guy I’ve ever known. Then I find out that Jensen’s been acting weird, snapping at people and constantly working. He’s been doing one project after another without a break, running his team to the ground. So I figure it must be the stress and a vacation would do him good. So here we are. But Jensen is acting even weirder. He’s having these moods swings. One minute he’s hugging me and the next he is telling me he hates me. And I know he doesn’t mean this stuff. I know he’s just lashing out. But Jensen never lashes out at _me_.”

Jared pauses to take a breath and his eyes are noticeably wet. “Wow, you’ve been really holding back,” Genevieve says.

“Yeah, it not like I could talk to Jen about this.”

“Maybe he needs a little time alone,” Genevieve says. “I mean this road trip of yours has started on a really bad foot. Not exactly relaxing.”

Jared hums. “But it’s not just the stress. It’s more than that. Jensen looks like he’s holding something in. Like he is just a pressure cooker waiting to blow up. I try to get him to talk to me, but he won’t. He either keeps deflecting or outright avoiding me.”

Genevieve nods. “I heard him puking last night,” she says. “Do you think he’s doing drugs?”

Jared looks at her like she needs animal tranquilizers. “No! Jensen is not doing drugs. Forget that line of thought, right now.”

Genevieve raises her hands up in surrender. “Hey, it was just a thought,” she says. _It was just a thought to plant the seeds of doubt in your mind. Soon you’ll water it and let it grow._ “I don’t know Jensen. You do. I was just saying. If you think Jensen’s not doing drugs then he is not doing drugs.”

Jared nods, satisfied with her response. “I just wish he’d talk to me.”

Genevieve is silent for a moment before she speaks. “Maybe you should push him till he breaks. Crank up the pressure till he explodes and it all comes tumbling down.”

Jared seems to consider that. “What if it blows up in my face?”

“It would be worth a try.”

Jared doesn’t answer. But she knows he’s going to do as she says.

**Scene 15**

It has been 10 hours since Jared left – with Genevieve. There hasn’t been a single phone call or text message, but it isn’t like Jensen was going out of his way to contact Jared. After that morning, Jensen feels ashamed and scared to face Jared. He still thinks Jared is better off hating him, staying as far away from Jensen and his poisonous mind as possible. That was why even though it was killing him inside Jensen had said all those mean words, hoping that Jared would leave him.

Imagining Jared with _Genevieve_ boils his blood; makes him restless and frustrated enough to want to pull his hair out.

Jensen has been pacing the kitchen for the past 30 minutes, muttering under his breath. Misha sits at the kitchen island, chopping vegetables and making no comment. He hadn’t even asked Jensen what devil had possessed him to lash out at Jared in the morning. But that’s Misha for you. He stays in the shadows, quiet and observing, till you break down and tell him your deepest and darkest secrets.

He had been resolutely avoiding thinking about that morning. The image of Jared’s shocked and crestfallen face swims into Jensen’s mind every now and then and tears blur his sight. Jensen’s heart aches for Jared but, he couldn’t risk having Jared all for himself – not after last night. Jensen would probably have hightailed it out of the cabin and flown to Antarctica, just so he couldn’t hurt Jared, if Jared hadn’t taken his car.

No matter how badly he tries to not think about it, his mind wanders off to that morning. Jensen had been standing behind his closed bedroom door all morning, trying to hear Jared’s voice, assure himself that he hadn’t destroyed the single most precious thing in his life. Jensen swears his heart stopped beating for a long minute when he heard Jared’s voice as he talked to Misha.

The thing inside him hadn’t died down. It was still clawing and gnawing at his insides to be let out. Jensen swore to himself right then and there that even if it destroys him, he wouldn’t let that _thing_ get anywhere near Jared. But, when he had heard Jared’s voice, he just couldn’t do it. He couldn’t stop himself from opening the door and seeing for himself that Jared was safe and well.

Jared had always been Jensen’s addiction. He always craved more. But, that morning he was like a junkie on withdrawal, foaming at the mouth for a hit. The moment he saw Jared, all he wanted to do was hug him and never let go. Jensen gave into that first urge but he managed to remember why he should stay away from Jared and pulled back. Jared, of course, being Jared wanted to talk. He kept saying how he and Jensen would spend the day together, _just you and me_ , and Jensen just _froze_.

The moment Jared had touched him to look at his palms, spoke in the panicked and scared voice, memories from his nightmare came to Jensen unbidden.

 _Jensen, you are scaring me_ , Jared had said. Jensen was scaring himself. But, all he could think about was the way Jared screamed and thrashed in the nightmare, the way he begged him to stop, pleaded with him to let him go.

 _Jensen, please_. Jensen knows that the way Jared said those two words in his nightmare, over and over again, will haunt him to his grave.

Not for the first time, Jensen wonders what is going on with him. Maybe he had finally cracked and gone bonkers. Maybe he needs a straitjacket. Maybe he should shoot his brains out. He _is_ so sick and tired of himself – he just wants it all to stop.

Jensen still feels that insane possessiveness, the undercurrent of darkness flowing in his veins. When he is alone, he thinks he hears voices whispering to him. He never understands what they say; they always speak in a language foreign, old and dead. Sometimes he swears he can hear the washing machine working, feel the fire and choke on the smoke.

All Jensen knows is that Jared isn’t safe with him. And he can’t hurt Jared. An eternity in hell would be more peaceful than being the cause of Jared’s suffering.

Blinking back tears, Jensen leans over the kitchen island to see out the open front door when he spots headlights heading towards the cabin. Jared parks the car in front of the cabin and cuts off the headlights. Genevieve gets out of the passenger seat, laughing loud and sweet. Her dark hair is pulled into a ponytail that sways in the wind as she waits for Jared to climb out of the car. When Jared does come out he immediately goes to put a hand around Genevieve’s waist. They enter the house together, shoulders brushing and laughing at a joke that only the two of them are privy to.

A lump lodges itself in Jensen’s throat as he thinks about all the times when that dimpled smile was aimed at him, when the jokes were shared with him and only him.

The laughter halts abruptly when Jared spots Jensen. Genevieve looks uncomfortable, glancing between the two of them. She slips out of Jared’s arm and keeps a respectable distance between them. _Wise move_ , Jensen thinks. Jared doesn’t seem to notice.

“You’re ready to stop being a jerk now?” Jared asks. Jensen looks away, ashamed.

“I guess not,” Jared says before heading into his room. He doesn’t slam the door shut like Jensen did that morning but lets it click softly into place. But, in the thick silence that he leaves behind him, Jared might as well have fired a gun straight at Jensen’s heart. At least that would give Jensen a good excuse for the tears in his eyes. Staring at Jared’s closed door, Jensen feels like his heart’s been ripped out of his chest. That would probably have been less painful.

 _It’s for Jared’s own good_ , Jensen tells himself. _He’s safe away from me_. It doesn’t help that a voice in the back of his head, which sounds like his younger self, tells him, _You were supposed to keep him safe._

Misha, who had stopped his chopping when Jared arrived, picks up the steady rhythm of _tak, tak, tak,_ against the wooden cutting board. Genevieve looks at Jared’s room for a moment longer then makes her way to Misha. Sensing her presence, Misha pauses again and turns a little in his seat to look at her. Genevieve looks straight into Jensen’s eyes as she speaks.

“Transfer my bags into Jared’s room,” she says to Misha in a husky voice. “I’m spending my nights there from now.” She pauses at that to let her meaning sink in. _I’m not going anywhere_ , her eyes tell Jensen. “I’m going to take a shower. It’s been a _long_ and _thick_ and _hot_ day. I’m aching everywhere.”

Jensen curls his fist, digs his nails into the meat of his palm and grits his teeth so hard he tastes enamel. Genevieve is not even trying to play innocent as she speaks, making the double meaning behind her words very clear. “Oh, and make something solid for dinner,” she continues. “I need to keep my strength up for tonight. Jensen, do you know how _insatiable_ Jared’s appetite is? He can wear a girl out real fast.”

Jensen keeps telling himself that he should not respond, shouldn’t give the bitch the satisfaction. But, he can’t stop himself from saying, “Jared’s a bottomless pit, alright. You shouldn’t start anything with him if you can’t keep up with him.”

“I think I’ve been doing well so far.”

“Jared’s tastes change all the time. He tries a new flavor every week.”

“And you think _you_ are what he’ll keep coming back to?”

Jensen smirks. “Oh, sweetheart, I’ve been feeding him since he was a gangly teenager. He will come back to me, craving for a fix.”

Genevieve smiles a shark like smile. “We’ll see,” she says before retreating to her bedroom.

“I have an inkling that you were not talking about Mr. Jared’s eating preferences.”

Jensen just gives Misha a half-hearted glare. His mind is elsewhere. But, he hears Misha say, “I don’t like Ms. Genevieve very much.”

“Me either,” he says absently.

And that is the truth. Jensen doesn’t like Genevieve period. He probably wouldn’t like her even if Jared wasn’t a part of the picture. There’s something about her that ticks Jensen off wrong. It might be her too sweet smile or the glint in her dark eyes but there’s something about her that just isn’t right. He’s been trying to not judge Genevieve because he thought, _he hoped_ , that she would be gone by now. But, the fact that she is still here only serves to make Jensen more wary of her.

He isn’t proud to say it but, he is regretting saving Genevieve from her would-be rapist.

And then there’s the fact that Genevieve is almost a spitting image of what Jensen thought _Ruby_ would look like. He feels like Dean, not in the dark and psychopathic way he did last night. He is suspicious of Genevieve just like Dean’s suspicious of _Ruby_. And just like Dean would do anything to keep Sam safe, he would do anything to keep Jared safe. He knows how this story goes. Dean had tried to reason and argue with Sam, he tried to pull him out of Ruby’s clutches. And all he got was Sam threatening to leave him for Ruby.

But, that doesn’t change the fact that he has to try. He can’t let Jared get hurt by whatever it is that Genevieve has got planned for him.

When Dean started to grow suspicious of Ruby and her motives behind flirting with Sam, he had basically put the monster problem they had on a back burner. In Jensen’s case, _he_ is the monster. But, for Jared’s sake he’ll have to push that monster away, deal with it – destroy it – later.

That is why Jensen finds himself standing in front of Jared’s bedroom door a few minutes later, his hand poised to knock. But, before he can muster up the courage to do so, Jared opens the door. When he sees Jensen he halts mid-step, eyes wide and mouth a little agape, looking surprised to find Jensen actually looking at him and not at the wall behind him. It is a weird parody of that morning when their positions were reversed.

“Jen?” Jared asks. Jensen exhales a small, inaudible sigh of relief on hearing the nickname. Clearly, he hasn’t ruined their friendship beyond hope.

“Wanna have a couple of drinks?” Jensen asks softly. He doesn’t know why he’s speaking so quietly but it’s probably better this way. Who knows what kinds of ghouls he could wake up if he speaks a little louder?

Jared stares at him for a second more, like he can’t believe Jensen is actually talking to him and saying those words. But, then he smiles so bright that it temporarily chases off the darkness inside Jensen. Jensen smiles back and is surprised to find that he can even remember how.

Half hour later Jensen and Jared are on their way to getting well and truly shitfaced. Jared’s laughing at him as he talks about the prank he pulled on a couple of Asian tourists in Hawaii – something including spaghetti and a rubber snake. Misha is behind the mini-bar keeping up a constant flow of drinks while staying sober himself. The tiny smile, which normally is plastered to his face and has been absent all day, is back. On the surface, everything is right in Jensen’s world. Underneath though, the tectonic plates are moving, brewing up a tsunami.

Genevieve is in her room, doing God knows what – at this point Jensen wouldn’t be surprised if he finds her chanting Latin, summoning the Devil. Jared hasn’t actually talked about her yet, but he keeps mentioning her and the day they’ve had. He tells the story of how Genevieve lost her shit when one of the local cows licked her hand. He tells Jensen that he and _Gen_ had gone skinny dipping in one of the hot springs in the area. The dark thing inside Jensen is seething. His fingers itch to hold onto the hand that Jared put around Genevieve’s waist until he leaves a finger-shaped bruises on the tan skin.

Earth quakes and a wave begins at the epicenter, building energy as it rushes towards the coast.

“So…” Jensen starts, knocking back the last of his beer. “What’s the deal with you and Genevieve?”

Jared stills for a moment, then smiles. “Nothing,” he says, a little too nonchalantly.

“Mhmm… ‘cause Genevieve just asked Misha to shift her bags to your room. I didn’t know the sleeping arrangements have changed.”

Misha stops pouring the drinks and looks at the both of them oddly. Jared simply shrugs, not acknowledging the tension in the air. “She was probably joking around.”

“And you’re not bothered by that joke?”

“No,” he says. “Misha, get me some more chips.”

Misha doesn’t move. Jared clearly notices that but doesn’t say anything about it. “Have you fucked her yet? She spread her legs for you like the good slut she is? That why you’ve been in such a good mood?” Jensen snarls. He is way drunk than he thought he was.

Jared looks horrified at the crude turn Jensen’s words have taken. “No, Jensen! Jeez! Keep your voice down. Gen can probably hear us.”

“ _Gen,_ ” Jensen growls. The word tastes like dirt in his mouth and his lips curl into a sneer around it. “ _Gen, Gen, Gen_. Sweet little Gen. She’s playing you, you idiot. That bitch is an attention whore. You said it yourself. Or did you already forget the way she tricked us into that fight in the diner?”

“Stop talking, Jensen,” Jared hisses. “What’s wrong with you? What happened in the diner was just a stupid prank misfiring. You said so yourself. Genevieve’s apologized for that already.”

“Mr. Jensen…” Misha begins awkwardly. Even he looks a little alarmed by the fury he sees in Jensen’s face. Jensen ignores him.

“Oh yeah? Then how about the ‘joke’ she pulled just now. You weren’t here Jared. You didn’t see her eyes when she talked about you. She _wants_ you and she wants to drive a wedge between us to get to you.”

Jensen sees the exact moment Jared’s self-control snaps. The little frown on his face deepens and his nostrils flare. His eyes turn into narrow slits that could have killed Jensen if looks could kill. The muscles in Jared’s biceps bunch as he curls his fists in an attempt to reign in his temper.

“She isn’t driving a wedge between us, Jensen. You are!” Jared’s voice rises with each word he speaks and he’s almost yelling by the time he finishes. “Is that what this is, Jensen? You’re jealous of Genevieve? That’s what it always has been about, isn’t it? All those times you gave me shit for sleeping around, you were just bitter that I no longer need you like the way I used to. You’re jealous that there’s someone else in my world that isn’t you! You want me that bad? Well, boo fucking hoo, Jensen. Maybe you shouldn’t push me away if you want me to stay with you.”

Jared is on his feet, breathing hard like a bull ready to charge. Jensen gets to his feet too and gears himself up for the bullfight. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Jensen knows that there’s something deeper to Jared’s words than what he’s reading. But, he can’t think about that right now.

“You don’t believe me, do you? You think I’m making this up, that there’s something wrong with me? Wasn’t that what you were saying this morning? That there’s something wrong with me?”

“I never said that – ” Jared begins but he doesn’t get too far.

“You are deeper under her spell than I thought you were at first. Don’t tell me you can’t make the connections, Jared. Don’t tell me you can’t feel it in the air every time she comes around. Ever since that girl got into our car, things have been going wrong. It’s only going to darker and darker from here. And Ruby is the reason behind it all.”

Some of the anger in Jared’s eyes gives way to alarm and they widen. “Oh my God, Jensen! What’s going on with you? Do you seriously think that Genevieve is _Ruby_? The character from your script?”

Jensen frowns hard at Jared’s words before he realizes what he had just said. Jensen is just as surprised and alarmed by Jared when he finds out that _yes, I do think of Genevieve as Ruby_.

“Jensen please tell me you are not so far down the rabbit hole that you can’t tell the difference between fiction and reality,” Jared says urgently, eyes glued to Jensen’s, pleading with him.

As desperately as he wants to, Jensen can’t answer that question. Because, yes, he is so far gone that even he is beginning to question his own sanity. And that is probably the reason he snaps.

The tidal wave crashes over the shore, destroying everything it touches.

Jensen’s fist flies of its own accord. It connects with Jared’s jaw with a sharp snap. Jensen doesn’t know it was his bones or Jared’s that have cracked. But, it feels good to hear the sound, to see the bruise already forming on Jared’s jaw. The darkness in him uncurls and crawls up his spine. Jensen feels like he’s lost in his own head. He feels _possessed_.

“You son of a bitch!” he hears himself roar. A fist flies out again. He can’t be sure but he thinks it’s his and not Jared’s. _Fight back,_ he pleads with Jared. The darkness snarls the same thing too but, for a different reason.

And Jared does. He pulls himself to his impressive 6’5” and _charges_ at Jensen. His fist finds Jensen’s jaw and Jensen stumbles back. They are both drunk and uncoordinated and if it weren’t for the adrenaline and anger pumping through their systems, they’d be swatting flies instead of hitting each other. But, their blows are still considerably softened.

Jensen hears voices. He hears Genevieve and Misha screaming at them to stop, to come to their senses but, Jensen isn’t listening to them. He keeps his entire concentration on Jared. He focuses hard as he drives a punch into Jared’s abdomen, to make sure that he doesn’t hit anything vital. He doesn’t want to hurt Jared, not really. There’s a part of him that is basking in every pained groan and grunt Jared makes but there’s another part of him that wants to shrivel in shame and die. Jensen doesn’t know which side to take. So, he hits Jared but tries not to hurt him.

All the while he keeps hoping Jared will hurt him enough to stop him. So, he probably has chosen a side already.

Jared kicks at his chest and sends Jensen flying backwards. The wood of the bar digs painfully into Jensen’s spine and Jensen groans. He launches himself up to throw himself at Jared but a pair of strong arms pin him to the bar from behind.

“Mr. Jensen!” Misha cries, his voice sounding uncharacteristically emotive. Jensen is too busy to break free of his hold, snarling and growling, to think about what emotion it might be.

Jared moves towards him, fast and with purpose, like he’s going to punch the daylights out of Jensen but his hand reaches behind Jensen. Suddenly Jensen finds himself doused in ice water.

Ice cubes slide off his shoulders, goose bumps erupt on his skin and Jensen’s teeth chatter like it’s an Alaskan winter. The cold water races down his hair, fitting itself into ever groove and fold of Jensen’s skin, seeping into his very core, chasing away the chill that had frozen his blood and replacing it with a new kind of cold that has his blood racing to get him warm again. It’s only then that Jensen’s shoulders slump in defeat and shame. All the fight drains out of him and Jensen falls limp in Misha’s hold.

Misha loosens the grip around him slowly and Jensen slips down the bar until his ass hits the floor. He looks up at Jared through lashes that are wet from more than just the water. He wants to say sorry, beg for forgiveness at his feet. But, the words don’t make it to his throat. Even if they did, they would be inadequate.

Jared drops to his knees next to Jensen. “Are you alright?” he asks.

Jensen snorts. _I should be asking you that. I’m sorry._ “Yeah.” He nods.

“Jensen, I –” Jared bites his lip, contemplating his next words. “I’m sorry,” he says.

 _No, Jare. I’m sorry. You should hate me,_ Jensen thinks but doesn’t say. “Why?” he asks.

“For pushing you,” Jared says with finality, like it explains anything. But, it does mean that he would say nothing more on the subject.

“Let’s get you dry and into bed,” Jared says. He’s moving before Jensen can answer. He gets one arm under Jensen’s shoulder and wraps the other around his waist. He hauls him up and wavers unsteadily on his feet, trying to balance the weight. Misha appears at Jensen’s other side, putting Jensen’s arm around his neck and supporting his weight.

Jensen isn’t hurt, not physically anyway. He certainly isn’t worse than Jared. But, he is drained, left feeling hollow and empty. He feels apathetic, not caring the slightest if he catches pneumonia and dies from it. He’s actually hoping that will happen. So, he doesn’t pull his weight and lets Jared and Misha carry him to his room.

When they turn towards the living room, Jared catches Genevieve’s eye. He nods tightly at her. She looks shocked and slightly terrified. But, she also looks concerned and alarmed for Jensen’s well being. Jensen wonders for a moment if he was wrong about her. But, after they pass her, he turns his head back briefly to look at her.

He finds her smirking.

When they reach Jensen’s room Jensen pulls away from Jared. “Misha will take it from here,” he says. Jared looks shocked, before his expression turns into one of hurt. Finally, his face hardens. He nods once and leaves the room without a word, closing the door behind him.

“If you will forgive my boldness, Mr. Jensen,” Misha says, in an unreadable tone, after he’s finished helping Jensen into warm clothes. “I don’t think punching someone is the best way to express your love for them. I mean, we are not Black Widow Spiders. We don’t try to kill our partners as a part of our mating rituals.”

“What the hell are you on about now?” Jensen says tiredly.

“Talking, Mr. Jensen,” Misha continues like he hadn’t heard Jensen, “is something civilized humans do. I do not pay much attention to the mating patterns of the Homo sapiens but, I think it does not involve beating one another to death. Most people include verbal communication in their long and arduous mating process, too. I think it’s called courting. You and Mr. Jared should try it sometime.”

Misha had bundled up the wet clothes while he was talking and he leaves the room quietly, without waiting for a reply, leaving a dumbstruck Jensen behind.

Misha’s words bring back Chad’s parting words of wisdom. _In the next 24 or so hours, you will either gain something that you want very badly or lose something very important. It all depends on how you handle the situation._

And suddenly, Jensen knows what Chad meant by that. He is going to either lose Jared or… No. the other option doesn’t make sense. But, then the stuff that Jared had said… _Maybe you shouldn’t push me away if you want me to stay with you._ The way Jared had said those words, like he was pleading with Jensen to not push him away – that has to mean something, right?

“Urgh!” Jensen lets out a frustrated groan and flops back onto the pillow. Jared had been acting strange lately. His innocent touches suddenly didn’t seem so innocent anymore and that comment about blowing Jensen right before _Gen_ entered their lives might not be a stupid, lame-ass joke after all. But, how can Jensen know that for sure? If he makes a move on Jared and Jared doesn’t feel the same way, he could lose _everything_ , especially after tonight.

Tonight – was Jared trying to make Jensen jealous?

Jensen bangs his head back angrily. Why would Jared do that? He would just talk to Jensen if he had feelings for him, right? Right? _Talking. You and Mr. Jared should try that sometime,_ Misha had said. But, talking is hard. Why couldn’t there be a way to know if your best friend is in love with you without bearing your heart out in the open and risking it getting stomped over?

Water trickles down Jensen’s hairline, trails down the shell of Jensen’s ear and makes its way down his neck, seeping into his t-shirt.

Jensen bolts upright, feeling alert and sober. He spots the manuscript sitting innocently on the table beside his bags, right where he left it last night. But, this time Jensen doesn’t feel a cloying presence around him forcing him to pick the book up and drown himself in the story.

Springing to his feet, Jensen reaches the table in two quick strides and opens the book. He turns the pages at breakneck speed, not stopping until he reaches the ending of the last scene before the ink spill.

Dean is driving the Impala to the nearest bar. He and Sam had just had a fight over Ruby in which Sam had called Dean controlling, said he was _jealous_ that Sam didn’t need him anymore. He had even hinted that he might leave with Ruby if Dean doesn’t get his act together. That fight had ended when Sam had thrown Dean into the motel pool.

Dean thinks Sam is going to leave him. His heart breaks at the thought but there’s nothing he can do now. Sam is right. Dean has always been the one who needed Sam. His little brother never needed Dean, not like the way Dean needs him. So, he is driving to a bar, determined to drink his sorrows away and not be forced to watch as Sam walks out on him. He plans on getting even more drunk when he wakes up the next morning to a Sam-less motel room.

Jensen reads the last lines written on the page 60.

_Water trickles down Dean’s hairline, trails down the shell of Dean’s ear and makes its way down his neck, seeping into his t-shirt. With one hand on the Impala’s steering wheel, Dean reaches the other into his pocket to find his phone. He flicks it open and scrolls down the contact list till he reaches ‘Sam’. Dean’s finger hovers unsteadily over the call button as he debates calling his brother. If this is the last he’s going to be seeing of Sam, he doesn’t want it to end with a fight. Dean thinks about calling his brother and telling him that he’s proud of the man he’s become, that he’s proud of them – chick flick moments be damned. But, how will Sam react to the call? What if he –_

Jensen turns the page instinctually, only to find page 61 smeared completely in ink, the text unreadable.

“Damn it,” Jensen curses again, the familiar frustration of the suspense hitting him. He wonders what happens next. What does Sam say when Dean calls? This could be exactly what Sam needs to choose his brother over Ruby again. But, what if he thinks Dean’s call was just the last act of a desperate man?

 _Incestuous undertones_ , Jared had said.

Was that really where the script was headed? If it was, then would Sam accept his brother’s love? Return his feelings? Or be disgusted? What if Jared rejects Jensen’s love as well? What if he is disgusted by it? Jared had never been homophobic or thought any less of Jensen just because he slept with men. But, Jensen had practically been Jared’s big brother, took him under his wing when they were both snot nosed little kids, and became his guardian after high school in all but name. What if Jared thinks it is _wrong_?

Jensen slams the book close and throws it on the table with a resounding _thud_ that does no justice to how helpless and frustrated he feels. If only he could know what happens next…. If only he had a way to know…

_The original writer._

**Scene 16**

Jared sucks deep on his cigarette and holds the smoke in his lungs, relishing the burn and the heady feeling it gives him. The smoke curls in thick, wispy clouds when Jared blows it out through his nose. The sky has turned completely dark a while ago and the stars are only beginning to pop out. Jared likes it in the forest, in the cabin. On good days when the sky is clear and there is no moon to dominate the stars, Jared can even make out the Milky Way sometimes.

Jensen had never understood Jared’s fascination with stargazing. He just did it because Jared would ask him to keep him company. Jensen never complained though.

It’s been an hour since their fight; 30 minutes since Jensen drove away.

He feels like he is sullying the fresh night air by releasing cancerous smoke into it. But, Jared can’t stop. He sucks in another lungful and rolls his shoulders, tips his head back and blows out the smoke into the night sky. The tension in his muscles drains out of him through the smoke, leaving him feeling mellow. For a few peaceful moments, he forgets about Jensen, the script, Genevieve and just breathes.

As soon as the smoke dissolves into the night, it all comes crashing down – Jensen’s words, the fist fight, Jensen leaving. Logically Jared knows Jensen will come back. He had taken the car and Jensen would never abandon Jared in the cabin like that. But, that didn’t mean Jared didn’t worry about him; about _them_. In all their years of friendship Jensen had only raised his hand to hit Jared once before today:

When Jared was 13 he had stolen 100 bucks from his father to buy the new transformers toy set he had seen behind the display glass in a store. When his father had found out, he was furious. Scared of his dad, Jared had decided that running away was the best option. He hadn’t gotten far, of course. Jensen had found him crouched behind a park bench, sobbing his eyes out. The moment he saw Jensen, Jared knew he was in trouble – not because Jensen was angry with him but because Jensen was _out of his mind_ with worry. Jensen had raised his hand to hit him and Jared shut his eyes expecting a blow. But, the punch never came. Jensen had fallen to his knees in the dirt and gathered Jared into his arms and fiercely whispered, “Don’t ever do that to me again. I swear to god, I will whip your ass if you ever run away like that.” Jared had simply nodded and hugged Jensen back.

Jared sighed tiredly as the memory came rushing back to him. He felt helpless and lost, much like the scared kid who had run away from home. But, this time Jensen wouldn’t be able to find him because Jensen was lost himself. Jared didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to fix this. Hell, he didn’t know what to fix. Jensen won’t talk to him, won’t admit it, but there’s something wrong. Jensen needs help and Jared wants to be there for him, but he is not doing a very good job of it. He feels like Jensen is slipping through his hands and no matter how hard he holds on, he can’t keep Jensen together.

Jared stubs his dying cigarette and pulls out another. He pushes himself out of the plastic chair he is sitting on and walks to the edge of the terrace on the second floor of the cabin. The railing around the terrace is low, definitely not kid friendly. It would be really easy for a man of his height to tumble off the edge and snap his neck on hitting the ground. But, Jared isn’t worried.

He cups his hand around the lighter when he flicks it on and brings it closer to the cigarette between his lips. The wind whips through the trees, howling and rustling the leaves. It makes it difficult to keep the flame alive and it takes more than 3 tries to light the cigarette. Jared takes a deep lungful, feels the nicotine coursing through his system. When he was younger, he used to ask his dad why he smoked. His dad always said that being a grown up is really stressful sometimes and a man just needs his nicotine fix.

He understands what his dad meant now.

The night is quiet, like it is always is in the forest. There is an occasional coyote crying out or owl hooting. The insects never shut up and the frogs near the stream keep croaking all night long, no matter what season. And yet, the forest always seems silent and still. The noises of the nature are a part of that silence, blending in and bleeding into the background.

Jared usually enjoys silence. People might find that surprising about him since he has a habit of talking a mile a minute but, when he’s by himself or with Jensen, Jared likes to stay silent. He doesn’t listen to music when gazing the stars and loves the comfortable silences he shares with Jensen. In those moments, he feels at peace, warm and loved.

Jensen had never liked silence. He always said it sounded like loneliness. But, he seems to be okay with it when Jared is around.

Today though, the forest is just _quiet_. Jared can’t hear insects or the frogs. The coyotes and owls don’t make a peep and even the wind whipping through the trees makes minimal sound. It’s like everything around the cabin has suddenly become mute. He doesn’t like this silence very much. To him, it reflects the turmoil and helplessness he feels.

The rumbling of an engine brings a welcome break to the silence. Jared’s heart rises to his throat as he stares at the sharp curve leading into the clearing. Soon enough, twin headlights come into view followed by Jensen’s red Ford Explorer. The SUV crosses the bridge and parks in front of the house. No one gets out of the car for a few moments. Jared waits, knowing that Jensen had spotted him standing on the terrace. The guy is probably giving himself a pep talk in the car, gathering up his courage to face Jared.

A minute passes by and Jensen finally steps out of the car. He doesn’t look up but, by now, Jared knows that Jensen will come up to talk to him. Jared uses the time to prepare himself mentally for whatever comes next. He hears voices downstairs – Jensen’s and Misha’s. They are quiet and subdued. After a few minutes, he hears the distinct sound of boots on the wooden stairs. He wonders if it’s just the eerie silence of the forest that’s amplifying the sounds or if Jensen is purposefully making a racket to alert Jared of his presence.

The door to the terrace opens and Jared doesn’t look back. He takes another drag of his smoke stick and continues looking out into the forest. Jensen comes to stand beside him, hands on the low railing. He is crouched over dangerously over the edge and Jared wants to tell him to back off from the edge before he goes crashing down. But, he holds his tongue and waits for Jensen to make the first move. It feels like a weird metaphor for his life.

A few more frustrating, silent, moments go by and Jared realizes Jensen is waiting for him to make the first move. Sighing to himself, Jared takes a final drag of cigarette, holds the smoke in and holds it out for Jensen to take. Jensen looks at him with an impassive face. His eyes have lost that crazy glint he had earlier. Jared takes that as a good sign and blows out the smoke he was holding.

Jensen quietly accepts the extended olive branch and takes a drag of the cigarette. He lets the smoke out on an audible sigh. His shoulders relax and the tension melts off his frame. When he speaks, his voice is rough from disuse and the smoke.

“So… I am an asshole.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Jared says.

“Unicorns aren’t real,” Jensen deadpans.

Jared gasps in mock disbelief. “Unicorns aren’t real?!?!”

“You think you are cute,” Jensen says, smiling a little.

“I _know_ I am cute,” Jared corrects, smiling himself.

And just like that, he knows they will be okay. Apologies given and accepted without a ‘sorry’ being uttered.

They fall into a comfortable silence for a few moments, passing the cigarette between them. Jared determinedly resists the temptation to lick around the cigarette stub to see if he can catch a taste of Jensen. That would be plain desperate and, not to mention, creepy. Jared hasn’t reached that stage in his unrequited love. Not yet.

“So, we gonna talk about it or not?” Jared asks, keeping his voice even.

“What’s there to talk about?”

Jared sighs. He can’t beat around the bush anymore. Standing back and giving Jensen a chance to talk to him clearly is not the way to do this. “You always ask me why I like to look at the stars,” Jared starts. Jensen looks at him curiously but Jared avoids his eyes, looking up at the sky. “I like looking up at them because they are like my own cosmic connect-the-dots. I can make out a wide range of shapes – from a penis to a stripper on a pole.”

“Your wide range is really narrow and mostly about sex,” Jensen remarks dryly.

“True. But, the point is, I see things up there. People see God’s hand in nebulas and elephants in the clouds.”

“You think I’m seeing things?” Jensen says. There’s a question mark at the end but it’s more of a statement.

“No, I’m saying that people see things that they want to see. And there’s nothing wrong with that. But, what I don’t understand is what nightmares are you seeing that’s got you so on edge.”

Jared tilts his head to look at Jensen. The older man’s eyes widen a little at the statement and he takes a deep breath to compose himself. “I’m fine Jared.”

“You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.”

Jensen’s lips twitch upwards. “Princess Bride, Jared? Really?”

Jared lets himself smile for a moment. “You gotta know how desperate I am for you to talk to me that I quoted Princess Bride,” he says, only half-joking. “I want to help you, Jensen. I might not be able to carry the weight of your problems but, I can carry you – ”

Jensen laughs, short and aborted. “Yeah, yeah, okay. I get it. Stop it, already,” Jensen says, cutting him off before Jared could launch into a tirade of cliché movie quotes.

“Come on, Jensen. Talk to me,” Jared says softly. He keeps his voice low and inviting, trying not to sound too pushy.

“I -I can’t Jared,” Jensen says weakly. “I can’t talk to you about this.”

“Why not?” Jared asks. Jensen won’t meet his eyes so Jared puts a hand on his shoulder. “Jen, don’t you trust me?”

Jensen turns his head sideways so he’s looking at Jared. He looks bone-weary with dark circles under his eyes. In the pale moonlight of the crescent moon, he looks like he’s fading away – just a ghost of the strong man remaining.

“I trust you more than I’ve ever trusted anyone else in my entire life. You know that,” Jensen says, a little defensively.

“Then why can’t you talk to me? I just want to help. Just this once, Jensen, let me be the one taking care of you.”

Jensen smiles faintly. “I wish I could tell you. But, if I do, I could either get everything I’ve ever wanted or lose all I have.” Jensen holds his eye as he says the words and he looks so open and vulnerable. Jared thinks he gets what Jensen means but, he can’t be sure. He wants to push, ask Jensen what he means by that. But, Jensen looks frail and ready to break apart. Jared realizes that he is the stronger one here, the one in control.

Jensen had taken so many risks over the years for Jared’s sake and asked nothing in return. But, this is the one matter in which Jensen won’t make the jump even if it wears him thin and kills him. The idiot probably thinks he’s doing Jared a favor by doing that too. It’s up to Jared now. If he wants to be the one to take care of Jensen this time and not the other way around, he has to be the one to take the leap.

“All right. I’ll make a deal. I’ll tell you something very, very important – something that will either give me all I want or destroy everything I have.” Jared parrots Jensen’s words and watches his marble green eyes widen a fraction. “In return, you tell me your secret. Sounds good?”

Jensen nods wordlessly. He stands up straighter, just inches away from Jared, eyes locked with his. Jared takes a deep breath before jumping over the edge. _Here goes nothing_.

“This evening when we were having drinks, I deliberately brought up Genevieve. I wanted to push you till your breaking point, make you angry enough to tell me or yell at me what’s bothering you. But, I also wanted to see if you would be jealous of Genevieve.”

Jared watches as hope blooms in Jensen’s eyes. “Why would you do that?” Jensen whispers.

“Because, I had to know if you feel the same way about that I do about you,” Jared says, just as quietly.

“And how do you feel about me?”

The wind whips past them, whistling softly as it filters into the clearing, bringing with it the smell of Night-Blooming Jasmine, flowing like cool water over Jared’s skin. Jensen’s freckles stand out in the pastel light of the moon. He looks beautiful, like something out of a dream. The whole scene is dangerously close to turning into a chick flick. But, Jared could care less.

“I love you, Jensen. I’m in love with you,” Jared answers, holding his breath.

That breath is stolen from his lungs when Jensen crashes his lips into Jared’s twisting a hand into his hair and wrapping the other around his waist. As far as first kisses under moonlit starry skies go, this one is rough. Jensen’s teeth clash painfully into Jared’s teeth and soon he tastes he blood. But, Jensen doesn’t ease up. He licks desperately at the cut in Jared’s lips, soothing the sting and apologizing wordlessly.

Jared brings his hand up to cradle Jensen’s face. He tilts Jensen’s head to the side, tries to set the pace so that the kiss is more loving and less biting. Jensen relents control momentarily and Jared slides his lips over Jensen’s. His lips are already tingling and warm from the kiss. Jensen smells like his aftershave, spicy and masculine. His tongue pushes past Jensen’s lips and Jensen opens up to him instantly. Jared moans at his first taste of Jensen – coffee, salty and sweet. There’s a tinge of copper from Jared’s blood and that only serves to make it more arousing, more intimate somehow.

Jensen has had enough of Jared’s explorations apparently because he fucks his tongue into Jared’s mouth with an impatient moan, brings their bodies closer together until they are flush against each other from chest to hips. Jared’s fingers thread themselves through Jensen’s short hair when Jensen curls his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Jared shivers as Jensen lightly scratches his scalp and Jensen lets out an appreciative moan.

Jared feels his knees go weak and if it weren’t Jensen’s arms around him, he’d be on the ground by now. His body goes lax in Jensen’s embrace as Jensen explores the hot cavern of his mouth. Jensen pushes into Jared harder until Jared is arching towards Jensen’s chest, back curving. He has this weird moment where he imagines Jensen dipping him and Jared’s foot popping out like he’s a girl. The image is so amusing and oddly sweet that Jared’s lips curve against Jensen’s.

Jensen pulls back then, arms still around Jared, looking at him with eyes darkened with lust. His cheeks are flush, his lips are kiss swollen and his breathing is erratic. He blinks slowly at Jared and there’s a lazy smile on his face, like he is drunk and high on the kiss. Jared knows the feeling.

“Say it again,” Jensen rasps. He sounds so fucked out already that Jared feels a pike of arousal course through him on hearing the words.

“Huh?” he asks after a moment, blinking stupidly.

“Say it again, what you said right before.”

Jared smiles. “I love you,” he says slowly.

Jensen lets out a noise that sounds like half-laugh and half-sob. “Oh God, Jared, I love you. I love you so much,” he whispers.

Jared’s heart soars and he feels heady and weightless with how happy he feels on hearing those words. It’s like getting a hit of the good stuff and suddenly having your world turn into a Technicolor happy place – only better. Jared thinks he could get addicted to hearing those words from Jensen. He wants to get on the roof of the cabin and shout out to the forest, the little town and the world beyond it. He wants to get on the Empire State and scream, “Jensen Ackles is mine, bitches!”

The magical moment they are frozen in is rudely interrupted when Jensen hisses and pulls his hand away from Jared’s waist. Jared loses his balance for a moment, since he is still bent over backwards in Jensen’s embrace, but Jensen is back as fast as he left, snaking a strong arm behind Jared and holding him up.

“What happened?” Jared asks.

“Uh, the cigarette burnt me,” Jensen says a little sheepishly. He straightens Jared and rubs one hand over the back of his neck, the other still wrapped around Jared’s waist.

Jared can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of his chest and he breaks out in guffaws, hand holding his stomach and all that. Jensen glares indignantly at him for some time before he starts to smile. He rolls his eyes at himself then and laughs shyly. Jensen looks so adorable that Jared kinda wants to pinch his cheeks. The whole thing is too sweet for words. Jared feels like a teenager again, fumbling around awkwardly with his crush for the first time. He feels young and happy like he hasn’t in a long time.

The laughter recedes and Jensen looks at him with this funny look on his face – his lips turned up in a soft smile, his head cocked to a side and a soft look in his eyes. “You know how many years I spent fantasizing about this very moment?” Jensen says.

“Does it live up to what you had in mind?”

Jensen shakes his head and Jared’s heart drops into his stomach. But, then he says, “It’s even better. It’s perfect, really.” Jensen reaches a hand to Jared’s face and tucks a strand of hair behind his ear before capturing Jared’s lips with his.

The kiss is warm and soft this time – slow, unhurried and toothache inducing sweet. Jensen holds Jared’s face like he is something precious made out of the most delicate glass. Jared has his hands on Jensen’s biceps, holding on for dear life. The air is crisp and warm and it cuts around them but, there’s not an inch between their bodies for it to pass through. The moon shines down in the clearing but all the stars are out, shining brightly. It’s like a scene out of a fantasy movie. But, Jared doesn’t notice any of this. All he can feel is Jensen’s lips on his, Jensen’s fingers in his hair, Jensen’s body pressed up against his.

It’s perfect, really.

**Scene 17**

Jensen doesn’t know when it was that he had turned into a teenager.

His mouth is locked with Jared’s as they trade heated kisses, grinding their hips furiously against each other. They are still on the terrace. Somewhere along the line Jensen had pushed Jared onto the floor and was now lying on top of him, covering his larger body with his own. Jensen’s got on hand twisted into Jared’s hair, the other on his hipbone. He bucks his hips into Jared’s, groaning wetly when his jean covered erection slides against Jared’s.

Jared pushes his hips up insistently, sounding breathless like he had run two marathons in a row. Jensen separates their lips with a wet smack and attacks Jared’s neck, paying special attention to the spot behind his ear that, Jensen has learned not long ago, is very sensitive. Jared groans, writhing wildly underneath Jensen’s ministrations. Jensen feels his toes curls and he’s sure he’s going to come in his pants like he hasn’t since he was a teenager. But, he doesn’t care. It’s too good to move right now and Jensen just wants to bring the both of them over the edge in any way possible.

But, Jared apparently has other ideas. “Uh, Jen, Jen,” he chants, tugging at Jensen’s hair. The sharp pinpricks of pain only drive him on and Jensen bites into Jared’s pulse point.

“Ngh, Jensen. Stop. Stop, damn it. I’m gonna come if you don’t.”

“That’s kinda the point,” Jensen says in a voice thick with lust.

“Uh… oh,” Jared moans wildly. They’ve long given up on trying being quiet. “Jensen!” he whines. “Bed. Bed’s good.”

“This is good too,” Jensen says. He groans when Jared’s nails rake over his scalp, leaving him tingly and covered in goose bumps – the good kind this time.

“Nuh uh,” Jared says, pushing at Jensen’s shoulders until he pulls away to look at him. Jared’s eyes are pools of black, the color in them almost gone. His bangs stick to his forehead and there’s a thin sheen of sweat covering him. Jared’s lips are kiss swollen and bitten red. _I did that_ , Jensen thinks with awe.

“Bed. Now,” Jared repeats.

Jensen really, really, doesn’t want to move. But, the unforgiving wooden panels must be killing Jared’s back, the splinters and nails digging into him as he writhes around. Jared looks determined and ready to give him a bitch-face of epic proportions so Jensen knows he’s not going to get anywhere until he caters to his demands. And Jensen needs to get off badly. So he nods urgently, swallowing and taking a few deep breaths to get his raging hard-on under control.

He rolls off Jared and gets to his feet, pulling Jared with him. They make their way quickly down the stairs, all the while Jensen tries to stifle his moans when his hard cock rubs against his jeans. Walking with a hard-on is really one of his least favorite things to do. The house looks empty – Misha is nowhere to be seen, Genevieve’s room is locked and Jensen really doesn’t want to think about the bitch right now. So, he heads straight for Jared’s room, holding the door open for him.

The moment Jensen shuts the door, Jared’s on him, kissing him and clawing at his sides. His fingers bunch into the thin material of Jensen’s t-shirt and he yanks it up impatiently.

“Easy, tiger,” Jensen breathes out as he shimmies out of his shirt.

“Jen,” Jared whines. Jensen thumps his head back against the door. _God_ , he could come just by listening to Jared’s sex noises.

“What do you want, Jared? Gotta tell me what you want, baby boy.” Jensen doesn’t know where the endearment comes from but, it feels good on his tongue so he rolls with it. And if the way Jared humps his thigh is any indication, he likes it too.

“Wanna suck your cock,” Jared whispers, his voice raw like he had been sucking cock for the last 30 minutes. “Want you to come down my throat and all over my face.”

“Fuck, yeah,” Jensen gasps. His heart is pounding wildly in his chest. It feels like he’s having a heart attack but, Jensen is not going to lift a damn finger to stop it.

Jared sinks to his knees fluidly. He pops the top button of Jensen’s jeans open and looks up at him from under innocent bangs and long lashes. Licking his lips slowly, Jared nuzzles into the prominent bulge in Jensen’s jeans, never taking his eyes off Jensen’s face. Jensen groans when Jared holds the tab of the zipper with his teeth and pulls it down. He looks like a porn star on his knees, not like the gay-virgin he’s supposed to be.

“Gonna kill me, Jare,” Jensen breathes out. His fingers find their home in Jared’s hair, which seems to be their new favorite spot. Jensen holds him lightly as Jared pulls his jeans and boxers down to his ankles. He kicks them off and stands in front of Jared completely naked and vulnerable. Even though Jared’s the one on his knees, he’s the one in control here and Jensen lets him have it.

Jared takes Jensen’s engorged cock in his hand and licks a long stripe up the shaft before taking him in. Jensen’s fingers tighten their grip on Jared’s hair, feels his knees grow weak and he groans. Jared sucks hard on the tip, corkscrewing his head while he encircles the rest of Jensen’s length with his hand.

Jensen is mesmerized. He can’t take his eyes off Jared’s face, his mouth, his lips stretched all pink and obscene over Jensen’s cock. Jared notices the attention on him and revels on it like always. He pulls out all the dirty tricks in the book – tongue pressing into the sensitive underside of the crown, bobbing his head up and down Jensen’s cock like he’s had years of practice just for this very moment.

Jared tongues the slit, collecting drops of precome, while his hand works, twisting and stroking along the length of Jensen’s cock.  Jared’s other hand is on his own erection, stroking himself through his jeans. “Jay…” Jensen croaks out. Jared pulls off Jensen’s cock, holding him in one hand, gives tiny little kitten licks to the purple mushroom head. “Jay, stop teasing, man,” Jensen begs, using his grip on Jared’s head to try to guide him into taking his cock again.

Jared, that little bastard, smirks. He runs his tongue along the pulsing vein on Jensen’s cock, getting him all wet and spit-slick, before taking him completely in. Jared starts bobbing his head on Jensen’s cock again, hollowing his cheeks and sucking hard, his hand and mouth moving in a sinuous rhythm to bring Jensen to his knees.

He groans out loud when the tip of his cock hits the back of Jared’s throat. Jensen had stopped trying to be silent long ago. But, now, he wants Genevieve and Misha to hear him – Genevieve mainly. He wants her to know what he is doing to Jared. He wants her to know that Jared has Jensen’s cock in his mouth and is enjoying every single second of it. The thought of Genevieve standing outside the door, face green with envy and disgust, makes Jensen buck his hips forward.

The tip of his cock pushes past Jared’s gag reflex, choking him a little. Alarmed, Jensen tries to pull back but Jared would have none of it. He holds Jensen firmly with a hand on his hip, giving a warning squeeze. Jared swallows around Jensen’s cock, taking him in inch-by-inch until Jensen’s balls rest again his chin.

“God, Jay. Fuck, fuck, _fuck,_ ” Jensen mumbles senselessly, trying hard not to thrust into the warmth of Jared’s mouth and start fucking his face. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to stop once he starts. Jared starts moving on Jensen’s cock, tiny movements of his head as he bobs in place, swallowing around Jensen and working his tongue on the underside as best as he can. Jensen’s knees threaten to give in and he holds onto Jared, collecting his longish hair into his hands.

Jensen braves moving his hips, bucking his hips carefully, observing Jared’s face for any signs of distress. But, Jared smiles around his cock and his eyes light up even as they water. Jensen takes that as a good sign and picks up his thrusts. Before he knows it, he is full on fucking Jared’s face, with one hand tangled in his hair and the other splayed on his jaw and throat, feeling himself moving inside Jared with every thrust.

“Yeah. Fuck, yes, Jare. So good for me,” Jensen praises. “Fuck, your mouth, should be fucking illegal.”

Jared has one hand on Jensen’s hip, the other rubbing insistently at the damp spot in his jeans. He lets his jaw falls slack, lets Jensen fuck into him, use his mouth. The complete trust and love in Jared’s eyes as he lets Jensen fuck his mouth callously is what does it for Jensen. He thrusts sharply a couple of more times before coming deep down Jared’s throat without a warning. Jared chokes on his come at first and Jensen pulls back. But, Jared doesn’t let him get far away. Holding Jensen in his mouth, he sucks and strokes him through the aftershocks. He swallows Jensen’s come the best he can, closing his eyes and groaning in pleasure.

When it’s all over and done and the two of them are trying to catch their breaths, hearts working double time in their chests, Jensen still going soft in Jared’s hand, Jared grins and says, “Wow! That was good.” His voice is raw and gravely, exactly like he had been throat-fucked. Jensen _loves_ the sound of it.

“Sorry,” Jensen breathes out, looking down at him. Jared makes no move to stand up. “Should have warned you.”

“Its fine,” Jared says, shaking his head. “I-uh, it was hot.”

It’s only then does Jensen notice the growing wet patch on Jared’s jeans. “Fuck, Jared. Did you just –”

Jared blushes a bright pink, looking shy and embarrassed like he didn’t just have Jensen’s cock down his throat and come from it. “Uh, yeah.”

Jensen’s hands, which are still loosely holding Jared’s hair, slip to shoulders and he pulls the younger man up to his feet. “That is so fucking hot. You are so fucking hot,” Jensen groans. He kisses Jared, tongue snaking out to taste himself in Jared. Jared opens willingly, lets Jensen in and lets him fuck his mouth with his tongue just like he did with his cock moments earlier. But, then he seems to remember something and pulls back with a groan.

“Ugh, Jensen, I taste gross!” Jared complains, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand with an adorable wrinkle on his nose.

“You taste like me,” Jensen murmurs, diving in for another kiss.

“You taste gross,” Jared says, laughing a little at the stupid joke.

Jensen playfully smacks his ass. “Brat.”

“You love me.”

“Yeah, I do,” Jensen sighs.

They kiss languidly, just a wet slide of lips against the other, tongues occasionally diving into taste each other, hands wrapped around each other, swaying to a rhythm that only they can hear. Jensen’s still completely naked and Jared is completely clothed. But, Jensen finds that he doesn’t care much right now. Later, he will be desperate to touch all of Jared, get them both skin-to-skin. But, for now, he is content and happy – giddy with happiness, actually.

Jared, of course, is impatient like he is about all things concerning sex. “Let’s take this to the bed,” he whispers against Jensen’s lips.

Jensen is kinda tempted to ask for 5 more minutes like he is in middle school but, the allure of _more_ draws him in too. “Need stuff,” he whispers back, walking them backwards until the back of Jared’s knees hit the King sized mattress.

“Side pocket of my duffle bag.”

Jensen pulls back from kissing him. “You came prepared?”

“I’m always prepared,” Jared shrugs.

“Such a boy scout.”

“You complainin’?”

“Hell no,” Jensen answers. He leaves Jared by the mattress and goes to retrieve the condoms and lube from Jared’s duffel. When he turns to Jared again, the man is sitting naked, on the edge of the bed with his legs spread open invitingly, leering at Jensen.

“See something you like, Jay?”

Jared’s eyes roam appraisingly over Jensen’s body, his lips curved into a smirk, pupils diluted with lust. “Nah,” Jared drawls after a moment and Jensen growls. He puts one knee on the bed and slots his other leg between Jared’s spread ones. He tips Jared’s head back and kisses him, nipping at his bottom lip. He trails a hand down, catching one of Jared’s nipples with his right thumb, eliciting a groan. He skims over Jared’s hard abs, feels the texture of the coarse hairs making up his happy trail and cups Jared’s half hard cock.

“Little Jared thinks different,” he says, giving a little squeeze.

“Mmm… I’ll have to listen to Little Jared then. My upstairs brain short-circuited a while ago.”

“Up,” Jensen growls. Jared pulls away and crab crawls up the bed with a playful grin on his face. He crooks a finger at Jensen and beckons him. A man Jared’s size should look awkward doing things like that. But, Jared makes it look so cute that Jensen can’t stop the laughter that bubbles up his throat. He pounces onto the bed, bouncing a little as the mattress springs squeak. He drops the lube and condoms he found on Jared’s pillow and kisses him again.

Jared, for some reason, can’t stop laughing. But, he isn’t laughing at Jensen, he is laughing with him. His dimples dig into his cheeks and his eyes shine bright in the semi-darkness of the room. He holds Jensen’s face in both his hands, saying Jensen’s name between bouts of giddy laughter. Jensen feels giddy too. He gets high on their kisses, can’t believe he’s finally having this. He kneels beside Jared’s hip, one arm on the bed and the headboard on either side of Jared’s body. He wants to keep Jared like this – naked, happy and enclosed in his arms – forever.

Jared looks so happy, full of life, youth and vitality and he is all Jensen’s. He is going to be Jensen’s in every way soon.

The thought is innocent enough without any darkness or malice in it. But, it brings Jensen to a screeching halt. His fingers twist into the sheets as images from his nightmare flash behind his closed eyelids. A shiver rakes through Jensen’s body when he remembers Jared’s face from his nightmares. He was beautiful and full of life in his nightmare too and Jensen had destroyed that, killed the spark and life in Jared’s eyes.

Thankfully it was a nightmare and no one but Jensen will have to suffer the consequences of it. He can’t do that to his Jared. He can’t hurt Jared the way he had in the nightmare. He just can’t, _can’t_ do this.

“Jensen what’s wrong?” Jared asks. Jensen opens his eyes to find Jared worried and looking at him with eyes full of concern. The hands that were caressing him have stilled and Jared is holding onto Jensen like he is trying to keep him from falling apart.

Jensen shakes his head. “Uh, maybe we should take it slow?” he says, trying to sound casual.

“Slow?” Jared repeats.

“Yeah, slow. I don’t wanna scare you off.”

Jared looks at him oddly. Clearly, he doesn’t believe Jensen. “Dude, I’m not a girl and I certainly am not a virgin.”

“You are new to the gay stuff,” Jensen tries.

“What’s really going on Jensen?” Jared asks him.

“Nothing. I just -It’s nothing.”

“No, no, no, Jen. You don’t get to do that to me. Not now.” Jared’s voice takes a pleading note. “I opened up to you, man. If this is going to work, you have to do me the courtesy of being honest with me. Tell me what’s going on with you?” He looks confused, hurt and insecure. Jensen hates himself for putting that look there.

Jensen kisses the look off Jared’s face before speaking. He puts his forehead to Jared’s and says, “Not now. I swear I will tell you all about it but, not now. I don’t want to ruin this. Let me have this, Jay,” he begs.

Jared hesitates for a moment before nodding shakily. “Thank you,” Jensen breathes. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Jared replies. Jensen thinks is never going to get tired of hearing those words from Jared, his heart is never not going to skip a beat when Jared says them. Frankly, Jensen doesn’t want that to change.

“You still want to do this?” Jared asks in a small voice. He is still hard and flushed from head to toe. Jensen can see how much effort it’s taking Jared to offer Jensen the out. He doesn’t want to disappoint Jared, not now. He wants their first night together to be perfect. But, he can’t risk hurting Jared, either.

“Yeah, I do,” he gasps. Kissing Jared once more fiercely, Jensen asks, “How do you wanna do this?”

Jared looks a little dazed from the kiss. “Huh?”

“Do you wanna fuck me or…” Jensen trails off. “I think you should fuck me, seeing as this is your first time and all. We should ease you into it.”

Jared smiles crookedly. “You like to bottom?” he asks.

Jensen opens his mouth to lie, to say yes. It’s a habit he’s had almost as long he can remember – lying for Jared’s sake. But then he remembers Jared’s words. He doesn’t want to start this new, exciting part of their relationship with lies.

“Uh, not really. I’m totally a top.”

Jared smiles like a Cheshire cat. “Figured. Why’d you offer?” he asks softly but there’s a hint of curiosity in his words.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Jensen admits, blushing. He feels ashamed to even say those words.

The smile Jared gives him is a fond, _my-best-friend-is-an-idiot_ smile. “I will admit that you are well-endowed,” he says indicating Jensen’s thick cock. “But, I’m not made of china, Jen. You won’t hurt me.”

Jensen opens his mouth to argue but, Jared shuts him up with a, “And who said this is my first time?”

That gets Jensen’s full attention. “What?” He pulls back a little to look at Jared’s face.

Jared’s smile doesn’t leave his face. “I’ve experimented,” he says.

“Why didn’t you tell me that before?”

“The same reason why you didn’t tell me you were in love with me,” Jared replies.

“The main reason I never told you that was because I thought you were straight as an arrow.” Jensen tries to not sound angry but, he can’t help it. Jared is his best friend. Even if they weren’t doing this right now, Jensen should have been one of the first people to know if Jared was gay, or bisexual or whatever.

“I am straight,” Jared says. “Just a little bent at the edges, I guess.”

“Now what’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’ve experimented with a couple of guys before Jensen but it never really felt right, you know?” Jared explains. “Not like it feels with girls.”

“Of course, it’s not like it feels with girls.”

“You know what I mean. It’s really cliché and stupid but, I think…” Jared says, turning into a shade of tomato red. “I think I might be gay just for you.”

Jensen’s eyebrows climb to his hairline. “Jared that’s just too gay rom-com even for us,” Jensen says, laughing a little.

“Shuddup.” Jared hits Jensen’s biceps lightly and he laughs a little louder. “You are the one to talk. You’re the ultimate cliché, falling for your straight best friend and all.”

“Touché,” Jensen concedes. “So, gay just for me, huh? I like that.” Jensen likes that very much.

“You better get on with the program now, Jen. Before I die of blue balls.”

“Uh-uh,” Jensen tsks. He starts a trail of open mouthed kisses from Jared’s shoulder to his ear. “Tell me what you did with the other guys.”

“Mmm… Can’t really think when you are doing that.”

Jensen wraps a hand on Jared’s hot cock, relishing the weight of it in his palms. It’s his biggest wet dream come true. “Better work that brain of yours Jared, if you want to come tonight.”

“Jensen,” Jared whines, bucking his hips into Jensen’s grip. Jensen grips the base of Jared’s cock and bites a hickey into the junction of Jared’s shoulder and neck. Jared hisses in pain-pleasure and moans. “God, you are too good at this,” Jared groans when Jensen’s other hand snakes up his spine to tangle into his hair. Jensen pulls Jared’s head back by his hair to give him more access to Jared’s neck.

“You see, I was thinking the same thing too,” he whispers into Jared’s throat. “You were way too good at giving a blowjob.”

“Wasn’t my first time,” Jared says. “Wanted to be good for you.”

Jensen moans loud and uninhibited. It takes all of his self control to not come at those words whispered in a broken and lust-drunk voice. He moves his hand up and down Jared’s shaft, stroking teasingly and paying special attention the engorged head.

“Tell me more,” he rasps.

“The first time,” Jared starts, “I fucked a guy – a reporter. I fucked him after the interview.”

“That was pretty risky,” Jensen can’t help but comment.

“Yeah. But, the guy would have lost his job if the news got out. So…”

“Did you like it?” Jensen sucks hard on Jared’s pulse point, covering the hickey he put there earlier. He moves down to Jared’s chest, biting and worrying the flesh of his pecs.

“Ugh… Not much. It was okay, I guess.” Jared’s hand comes up to cup the back of Jensen’s head when he sucks on Jared’s nipple. “Never thought you’d be a biter,” Jared says breathlessly.

“You thought about how I’d be in bed?” Jensen bites at the pebbled bud and licks away the sting until Jared is arching into his mouth. He moves to give the other nipple the same attention.

“Thought about it a lot,” Jared moans. “Always imagined you fucking me into the mattress.”

“I like that fantasy. You ever jerk off to it Jared? ‘Cause I did. Too many times to count.” Jensen is stroking Jared’s cock faster. He twists on the upstroke, thumbing at the underside of the head and spreads the precome down Jared’s impressive length, stroking Jared just the way Jensen likes to touch himself.

“Oh God, Jensen, stop talking and just fuck me,” Jared half-yells. Jensen is completely on board with the idea – the memories of dark and twisted nightmares clouded by the haze of lust. He lets go of Jared’s cock and Jared whines at the loss, hips humping up into the air looking for any sort of friction.

“I got ya,” Jensen says, straddling Jared’s thighs. With one hand on Jared’s chest, he pushes him back onto the mattress. The look of relief on Jared’s face when Jensen grabs the tube of lube is almost comical.

“You know,” Jensen says conversationally as he slicks his fingers with a generous coating of lubricant. “If you didn’t like fucking a guy, you probably won’t like getting fucked as well. We could just stick to – ”

“I swear to God, Ackles! If you stop now, I’m going to fucking kill you,” Jared growls.

Jensen chuckles darkly. “Oh, baby, I have no intention of stopping any time soon.”

He leans down and sucks on Jared’s bottom lip as his hand snakes between their bodies, bypassing Jared’s cock and going lower till he reaches Jared’s hole. At the first touch of Jensen’s fingertips to his entrance, Jared moans and bucks his hips, groaning louder when his cock brushes against Jensen’s.

Jensen wastes no time in pushing one finger slowly inside. It goes up to the first knuckle without any resistance before Jared tenses up. “Relax, Jared. Let me in. I’mma take good care of you,” Jensen slurs, kissing and sucking at Jared’s neck to distract him.

“Have you ever been fucked?” Jensen asks as he pumps his digit in and out of Jared, slicking his channel up. He mostly wants to keep Jared distracted by talking but, he also wants to know.

“No,” Jared gasps. “Thought about trying it once. Didn’t go far.”

“What happened?” Jensen asks. He sucks on Jared’s earlobe and Jared moans, clamping down on Jensen’s finger. Jensen has to grip his cock tight at the base to keep himself from blowing his load too soon.

“Didn’t feel right,” Jared says. Jensen adds another finger when Jared is loose enough and Jared gasps. “Didn’t want anyone but you to have me like that.”

Jensen stills at that. The words feel like a sucker punch to his gut, knocking out the air and leaving him breathless. He looks up to find Jared watching him with lust blown eyes. But, in their depths he sees so much love that it makes Jensen dizzy. He doesn’t know who moves first but soon they are kissing hard, tongues sliding against each other, tasting and exploring. Jensen pumps his fingers in and out of Jared’s hole, searching for the sweet spot that he knows will make him see stars.

He knows he’s found it when Jared gasps and pulls back with wide eyes, wriggling on Jensen’s fingers and trying to get him to touch that spot again.

“What was that?” Jared asks in a daze.

“You aren’t really proficient in the art of ass-fucking, are you? That – ” Jensen punctuates his word with another sharp thrust of his fingers, hitting Jared’s prostate dead on, “is your prostate. I can get you to make all kinds of sounds,” he massages the bundle of nerves, making Jared whimper and writhe on his fingers, “make you come even, by just playing with this.” He drums his fingers on the bundle and smirks when Jared’s back arches.

“Jen, please. Need more,” Jared gasps like a fish out of water.

Jensen adds a third finger, takes both his and Jared’s cock into his hand and strokes them together. He feels like he could float away, the weight of Jared’s arms around his neck and his legs wrapped around Jensen’s waist the only things keeping him from doing so. The heat of Jared’s cock against his, his inner muscles fluttering around Jensen’s fingers, his mouth on Jensen’s neck, biting and sucking a bruise of his own – it’s almost too much for Jensen to handle.

When Jared begins to fuck himself back on Jensen’s fingers, Jensen pulls out eliciting a petulant whine from Jared. “I gotta stop, baby boy,” Jensen whispers, reaching for the condoms. “I need to be inside you. God, _fuck,_ Jare – need to be inside you right now.”

“Yeah, fuck me, Jen. Fuck me.”

Jensen rolls the condom onto his cock, hissing at the contact, clamping down on the base to stop himself from coming. He lines himself up with Jared’s entrance and pushes in slowly, cursing brokenly when the tight heat of Jared’s ass engulfs the head of his cock. Jensen pulls back a little before thrusting in again. He moves with short, slow thrusts, making sure to give Jared enough time to adjust, watching his face for signs of discomfort.

When Jared’s face scrunches up in pain, Jensen talks. “So good, Jared. So fucking hot and tight. _Fuck_ , you feel amazing around me, clamping down on my cock. Next time, though, I don’t want anything between us. I’ll open you up with my tongue and fingers, gonna fuck you bare, come inside you.”

“God, Jen,” Jared groans, throwing his head back and arching up. With one final thrust Jensen buries himself deep inside Jared’s tight heat. He holds himself still above Jared, hips flush against the other man’s. It takes all his self control for Jensen to stop himself from fucking mindlessly into the pliant body underneath him.

“Tell me when, Jare -”

Jensen doesn’t even finish the sentence before Jared is moving his hips in an experimental twist. “Fuck,” Jensen groans, burying his face in Jared’s neck.

“Move, Jen. Move, damn it.” Jared’s legs tighten around Jensen’s waist and his arms move to Jensen’s biceps. Jensen pulls away from the sweet scent of the hair at Jared’s nape and kisses him while thrusting his hips slowly forward. He pulls all the way out and pushes back in, moving Jared up the bed with the force of his thrusts. He finds a rhythm soon, rolling his hips against Jared’s, grazing his prostate every time.

Jensen doesn’t do any more dirty talk – just keeps his eyes locked with Jared’s as he fucks him, trading languid kisses in between. Jared runs his fingers over Jensen’s back, his upper chest, any part he can reach as if he trying to commit the texture of Jensen’s skin to his memory. Soon Jensen’s breathing turns erratic and his thrust falter. Jared’s hips are bucking up into his as he fucks himself on Jensen’s cock.

“Jensen, please,” Jared moans and Jensen freezes.

He marvels at how different those words sound, now that they are uttered in pleasure. Jared looks just as bruised and disheveled as he had looked in Jensen’s nightmare. But, his eyes aren’t dead, his cries aren’t for help. He wears the ring of hickeys Jensen put around his neck with pride, welcomes the finger-shaped bruises on his hips. His hands aren’t trying to push Jensen away but are trying to bring him impossibly closer. His eyes are clouded with lust and desire as they look into Jensen’s. When Jared says “Jensen please,” he’s asking for the sweet release that only Jensen can give him. He’s at Jensen’s mercy now but he looks happy to be here.

“Jensen?” Jared says, a little unsure, when Jensen stops thrusting and just stares at him.

Jensen dives in for a bruising kiss and picks up his thrusts, fucking into Jared with abandon. The bed starts creaking and the headboard starts hitting the wall behind. The crisp forest air fluttering in from the open windows on either side of the bed cools the sweat on Jensen’s skin and he shivers. Jensen covers Jared’s body completely with his, protecting him from the chill outside. He wraps an arm around the trim waist, the other cradles Jared’s head so that he doesn’t hurt himself when he hits the headboard.

And Jensen just looses it.

He fucks into Jared like a wild animal; lets himself take everything Jared has to give and gives away everything he has. He doesn’t stop kissing Jared, pouring his very soul into the kiss. He apologizes for a crime he didn’t commit, begs for salvation. He promises a lifetime of devotion and care, swears to follow Jared into damnation. Jared doesn’t know any of the thoughts running through Jensen’s mind. But, he kisses back just as hard and meets Jensen thrust for thrust.

Soon, Jared is spilling his release between their sweat-slick bodies, coming hard and untouched. It doesn’t take long after that for Jensen to tumble over the edge. His nerves are torn and frayed, his body strung out. A few more erratic thrusts and he is falling and falling hard, spilling into the condom, fucking Jared through their orgasms and the aftershocks.

Jensen holds himself over Jared, breathing hard, until he goes soft inside him, still cradling Jared in his arms. Sweat drips from the tips of his hair and tiny tremors rock through his body. Jared blinks up at him. He has a small smile on his face with just a hint of dimples. He looks sated and happy, content to lie there in Jensen’s arms forever.

The breeze still blows into the room, the table lamp – the only source of illumination in the room – flickers unsteadily. The room smells of sex and they are sticky and sweaty.

It’s like a spell has been lifted off. The eerie silence doesn’t bother Jensen anymore, not when Jared breathes steadily underneath him. The nightmare he had is a far away memory, forgotten in the face of Jared’s smile. He doesn’t hear any clocks or washing machines, doesn’t smell fire or smoke. Everything is finally back in its axis.

Jensen slips out of Jared carefully, rolls off the condom, ties it up and throws it into the trashcan. He gets a washcloth to clean himself and Jared. Jared doesn’t say anything, watches silently as Jensen works equally quietly. When Jensen crawls into the bed again, Jared has a lopsided grin on his face, eyes drooping sleepily. Jensen presses a chaste kiss to Jared’s lips and draws the sheets up over them.

He spoons Jared from the behind and falls into a peaceful, dreamless sleep with his lover nestled safely in his arms.

**Scene 18**

Jensen has bad mornings and good mornings. But, that morning is the best fucking morning of his entire life.

He wakes up with a smile on his face. His limbs feel heavy and relaxed. He has his nose buried in the baby curls at Jared’s neck, entire body molded to the shape of Jared’s. They are both on their sides with Jensen’s chest to Jared’s back. Jensen has one arm slung possessively over Jared’s waist, his fingers threaded with Jared’s. The arm he has under Jared had fallen asleep long ago but, Jensen doesn’t mind that.

He takes a deep breath of Jared’s scent – no hint of product in it, just his natural, spicy smell. Jensen feels like he could roll around like a puppy in that scent. His arm tightens instinctively around Jared and he moves his hand up to Jared’s heart to feel the steady beat there. He wonders for a brief moment if all this is a dream or if he had died and gone to heaven. He finds that he doesn’t care either way.

Jensen is happy and content and he is having a lot of sappy thoughts. Waking Jared up by peppering kisses all over his face is one of them.

“Stop creeping over me, perv,” Jared grumbles.

Jensen places a kiss to his shoulder. “I gotta go back to my room, babe,” Jensen says against the cool skin. Jensen never knew he was one for endearments.

“No. Stay here,” Jared whines and snuggles closer into Jensen’s chest.

“I want nothing more than that. Trust me. But, I gotta make breakfast.”

“Misha can do that,” Jared says. His eyes are still closed and he doesn’t relinquish his ownership of Jensen’s hand.

“But, I _want_ to,” Jensen says. That gets Jared to crack an eye open.

“Why, Jenny, you trying to be my good little wife-y?”

“Pfft. As if! If anyone’s the girl here, it’s you. I’m just really hungry and Misha makes great waffles but nothing else. And I want pancakes.”

“Did I wear you out, old man?” Jared asks, smirking.

“Keep giving me lip and see if you ever get laid again,” Jensen says without any heat.

“You are all bark and no bite, Jen.”

Jensen nips Jared’s earlobe playfully and Jared moans. “You were saying?”

“You are a goddamned tease, you know,” he says but lifts his body so that Jensen can snake his arm from under him.

Jensen puts on his boxers, which are still lying at the door, and opens the bedroom door a crack to peer outside. Genevieve’s room is locked, the kitchen and living room are empty and the backdoor is open, which means Misha is outside tending to his little garden. Jensen collects the rest of his clothes, feeling too much like a chick after a drunken one-night stand – or all of his previous partners on the morning after.

“You gonna do the walk of shame, Ackles?” Jared asks from the bed. He is lying on top of the sheets now, naked and unabashed, completely confident in his skin. Jensen takes a moment to admire his handiwork – the love bites on Jared’s neck, the bruises on his shoulders and the finger-shaped marks on his hips. No way is anyone who sees Jared today not going to figure out that he was thoroughly fucked last night. That thought makes Jensen smile and his cock harden in his boxers.

“It’s only the walk of shame if I’m ashamed,” Jensen drawls. “I’m looking forward to a repeat tonight.”

“But, I can’t wait till tonight. How about sometime after breakfast?” Jared asks with a smile.

“You are a slut,” Jensen says, shaking his head fondly.

Jared’s “At least give me a hand with my morning wood,” follows him out into the hall.

That morning, Jensen does something he hasn’t done in a long time. He sings in the shower. He grabs the detachable shower head and belts out AC/DC horribly out of tune, beating his head to the music in his head.

_‘Cause the walls start shaking_

_The earth was quaking_

_My mind was aching_

_And we were making it_

_You shook me all night long_

_Yeah you shook me all night long_

Misha comes inside after a while to find him making blueberry pancakes – Jared and Jensen’s favorite – and still singing off tune. Jensen has now progressed to Zeppelin’s Ramble On. He doesn’t say anything but he hums under his breath along with Jensen as he works on tidying the kitchen. At that moment Jensen decides that he should give Misha a solid pay rise and a hefty Christmas bonus.

Jared walks out of the bedroom a little while later, hair freshly washed, dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants. Jensen notes with no small amount of pride the hickeys showing out from under Jared’s t-shirt and that Jared is walking a little funny. There’s a moment when he worries if he hurt Jared but, that thought leaves his mind when he sees how prettily Jared is blushing with every step he takes, like a freshly deflowered virgin.

Jensen has to shoo Jared out of the kitchen to keep him from devouring the pancakes as Jensen makes them. Jared grumbles under his breath about short and bossy wives but obediently leaves the house to settle on the front porch with the morning newspaper, working on his crossword puzzle. Jensen, for his part, just can’t stop smiling. It’s impossible to put into words how happy he feels. He is practically floating in air. It feels like nothing can sour the good mood he’s in.

And that’s when Genevieve steps out of her room.

Genevieve has dark circles under her eyes. Her usually soft and styled hair is unwashed and greasy. She looks like she hasn’t slept in days. She steps out into the living room, glances once at the open door of Jared’s bedroom and turns to Jensen with a scowl on her face, her face pinched and lips pulled back into an almost-snarl.

Jensen knows it’s petty and silly but he really wants to say, _Now who got to spend the night in Jared’s room?_ He doesn’t yet know if Genevieve really meant her comments yesterday as joke or if she was in on Jared’s hare-brained scheme to get him riled up, since she hadn’t complained when Misha didn’t transfer her stuff to Jared’s room as asked. But, the look she’s giving him now is enough to wither plant life and kill little puppies.

Jensen smiles a shark like grin and Genevieve scoffs, turning away and leaving the house – for her morning run or to join Jared on the porch, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t really care much either because he knows now that Jared doesn’t have any feelings for the woman. Jared isn’t the kind of guy who cheats and Jensen trusts him.

But, he can’t help the low panic building in his chest.

“Is Miss Genevieve leaving today?” Misha asks.

“Yeah, Jared says her car will be fixed before evening and will come over to pick her up.”

“I don’t think she’s leaving,” Misha says quietly. Jensen turns to look at him and finds him frowning at the door out of which Genevieve disappeared.

“What do you mean?” he asks slowly.

“I just have a feeling that she means to stay,” Misha answers. He cocks his head to the side and stares for a few more moments before turning around and walking out the back door.

There’s a knot forming in his chest, like the pressure building before a hurricane and Jensen rubs at it absently mindedly. Jensen feels like he’s in Final Destination, where little words and random happenings seem to point towards an inevitable disaster.

_I think there’s a storm coming._

_Remember John, never talk to strangers!_

Jensen listens hard for the sound of clocks ticking or washing machines humming but he hears nothing. Everything is pleasantly quiet. The room is lit well with sunlight pouring in through the windows and everything is bright. He doesn’t smell smoke or ashes and for the first time in a long time, Jensen feels completely happy.

Somehow, he can’t shake the feeling that it is the calm before the storm.

The smell of burning pancakes draws him back to the real world and Jensen turns the gas off, cursing under his breath. He feels a sense of urgency, to do something, his _fight or flight_ instinct flaring up. But, that sounds crazy even to himself. Jensen tells himself over and over again that nothing is going to go wrong. Genevieve is going to leave in the evening, he and Jared are going to be okay and Jensen is going to forget all about the damned manuscript. Everything is going to be okay.

He knows he is wrong when he hears Jared call for him. “Jensen?” He turns around to find Jared standing at the door with a frown on his face. “There’s someone here to see you,” he says. He doesn’t sound happy at all.

Jensen follows him out the cabin to meet his guest. The new arrival is a short, balding man with a square face and a crazy look on that face. The man is standing beside the SUV that he probably arrived in, wide eyes roaming all over the wilderness around them with an eccentric look in them. His mouth hangs slightly open and his head is tilted back as he looks at the tall trees.

“I’m Jensen Ackles,” Jensen introduces himself, coming down the steps. From the corner of his eye, he notices Genevieve standing on the porch observing them, with her head cocked to a side.

Grey eyes move down to meet his. A pale hand is extended and Jensen shakes it. “I’m Eric Kripke,” the guy says in a bubbly tone that sounds just too creepy on his face. “Mr. Welling and Mr. Rosenbaum contacted me. I’m the writer you were looking for.”

_Fuck! Fuckity fuckity fuck! He had forgotten all about it._

Jensen chances a glance at Jared. Arms crossed in front of him, Jared is looking at him with raised eyebrows.

“Yeah, right,” Jensen says, turning back to the writer. “I really liked your script and I want to work with you on it. But, there’s just this tiny problem of most of pages being covered in ink.”

“Yeah? That’s a shame,” Kripke says bobbing his head erratically. He doesn’t say anything more.

“Okay, then,” Jensen says clapping his hands, more than a little uncomfortable. He can practically feel Jared boring holes into his skull. “You must have had a long drive – ”

“Very long. We were travelling all night.”

“I’m sorry about that. I was just a little too eager, asking you to come over so soon.”

“Oh no, it’s all right. Anything in the name of art.” The maniac head-bobbing hasn’t stopped yet.

“Sure. Why don’t you go ahead and get some rest or freshen up? We’ll talk later.”

“I’ll be good to go in 20 minutes,” Kripke says. “I just need a shower.”

Jensen stifles a sigh. “Whatever you like. Misha!” he calls out. Misha had, at some point, arrived at the porch and he makes his way to the car to collect Eric Kripke’s luggage. “Misha will show you where you’ll be staying.”

Eric turns back to the car just as Misha finishes unloading his luggage. “You can go,” he tells the driver still sitting inside the car. “Thanks for the ride.”

The driver backs out of the clearing just as quietly as he had arrived. Eric turns to them with a wide, almost clownish smile on his face. “Is this your place?” he asks.

“Yeah. Mine and Jared’s,” Jensen says automatically.

“Hmm…” the writer hums thoughtfully. “A really good place for murder to happen, don’t you think?” he says offhandedly.

Jensen’s blood runs cold. He stares at the writer’s back as he retreats into the house. Genevieve is still watching them with a calculating expression on her face. She gives Jensen a slow smile, much like the one he had given her earlier and walks off to the side of the house, out of view.

Jensen doesn’t know what to make out of all of this. His mind is still spinning and he is trying to keep his panic at bay – he should probably start taking anxiety meds soon. But, he has more important things to worry about.

“Care to tell me why our mystery writer has suddenly popped up on our doorstep, Jen?”

Jensen takes the nickname as a good sign. He turns fully to Jared with a sheepish smile on his face. “After our fight last night, I may or may not have driven up to town and contacted Danneel, asking her to send the writer here before dawn.”

Jared sighs and drops his hands. He was probably expecting that. He doesn’t look angry or disappointed, however. Just thoughtful.

“Fine,” he says. “We can work on your stupid script.”

“But, you said you didn’t want to think about the script for the rest of the vacation,” Jensen says. Jared simply smiles at him.

“I was worried about you, Jensen – worried that you were working yourself to the ground. I just want you to be happy. If working makes you happy, I’m game.”

Jensen’s heart clenches at the fondness in Jared’s tone. “You make me happy.” Jensen Ackles is now officially a chick.

“I know. You’ve been smiling all morning,” Jared comments, stepping into Jensen’s personal space.

Jensen pulls Jared down into a soft kiss. “The sex really helped,” he says when they pull apart.

“I must have a magic dick, then. I should really put my dick to better use, make the world a happy place.”

Jensen growls, nipping at Jared’s bottom lip. “Don’t even think about it. You are mine, Padalecki. It will do you good to remember that.”

Jared chuckles, licking at Jensen’s lips. “Possessive much?”

“Very. So you better keep it in your pants.”

“Don’t worry, Jen. You know you’re the only one for me,” he sing-songs.

“I better be.”

“Ahem.” A not so delicate cough makes them jump apart like teenagers caught making out in the janitor’s closet. Genevieve stands on the porch, looking wide-eyed and innocent.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt anything. It’s just- Misha says the pancakes are turning cold.”

“Don’t worry you didn’t interrupt anything,” Jared says. He turns to give Jensen a soft smile before bouncing up the steps. “Someone needs to rescue those pancakes from hypothermia.”

“If by rescue you mean gobble them up, then yeah.” Genevieve says following him into the cabin. Right before she goes through the door though, she half-turns back and gives Jensen a dangerous smirk.

After that, breakfast is served and eaten – in Jared’s case swallowed. The three of them are back on the porch, with Jared and Genevieve on one side and Jensen on the other. Jared had said that he should talk the details of the rest of the plot with the writer before deciding to make the movie. Leaving Jensen alone with the script, Jared had settled down with his newspaper to finish the crossword. Genevieve joined him soon after, proclaiming her love for crossword puzzles and Sudoku.

The two of them were bent over the newspaper, foreheads together and frowning in concentration, while Jensen discreetly glared at them, when Eric Kripke arrived.

“So do you have another copy of the script?” Jensen asked when they were done with the necessary greetings and small talk. _Hopefully a printed version_ , he didn’t add. The script was really good but, reading the written words was like deciphering hieroglyphics.

“No, I’m really sorry but I don’t. I never thought anyone would even want to read it let alone make a movie. I still cannot believe you are interested in my script,” the bald man said.

“It’s a good script,” Jensen replied. It was a shame that there wasn’t a second copy of the script. It could put a real damper in his plans. The director in him was already making plans as to what he should do next. But, his mind kept turning back to Jared and Genevieve – the main reason Jensen had asked for the writer to see him in the first place.

Last night Jensen wanted to know if Sam would leave Dean for Ruby, if _Jared would leave Jensen for Genevieve_. But, now he has his answer. He doesn’t know if Sam and Dean were going to start an incestuous relationship in the script and he didn’t really care but, he needed to know what was up with Ruby – if she was going to leave or if she still had a card up her sleeve.

He turns abruptly to Kripke and says, “Suppose I’m Dean and Jared is Sam,” he says pointing at Jared and Genevieve, “and Genevieve is Ruby. What happens next?”

Kripke frowns. “Next to what? Which scene was the last?”

“The one in which Sam and Dean fight and Dean drives off to a bar. Does Sam leave Dean?”

“No,” Kripke answers. Jensen had figured as much.

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking. Now, what I don’t get is the deal with Ruby. Does she really love Sam? Is she going to make him chose her over his brother? I mean, Sam is loyal to Dean and Dean knows that but, even he can’t deny the spark between Sam and Ruby. There’s romance there. But, is it enough to pull Sam away from Dean?”

Eric slowly shakes his head. “I don’t think you know what the script is about.”

“Of course I do. It’s a family drama of sorts in a horror setting. Now, about Sam and Ruby. Does Sam fall for Ruby? I mean, she is an easier option. Being with her will mean getting out of the family business, having 2.5 kids, a white picket fence and all the nine yards. What does he chose?”

_Will Jared leave me for Genevieve? Being with Genevieve won’t mean living in a closet, worrying about his career. Will he fall for her?_

“No. The script is not about that, at all,” Kripke says. “It’s a thriller. The romance is just a distraction.”

“What does that mean?”

“Sam chooses to stay with Dean. But, it doesn’t mean Ruby is out of the picture. The budding romance she has with Sam is only a ruse to cover up her real story – who she really is and what she really wants from the Winchesters.”

“I don’t understand,” Jensen says slowly, even though he has an inkling. The panic he was trying so hard to quench surges up.

“Ruby is a psychopath. She is a cold-blooded killer. She is the one killing all those victims in the case Sam and Dean are investigating.”

Jensen’s blood freezes, the hairs on his neck stand up. He swallows around the painful lump in his throat. He feels the sweat cooling on his skin, hears Genevieve’s tinkling laughter in the wind. He doesn’t dare to look at her. “But –but, I thought, that the killings were supernatural. Weren’t Sam and Dean thinking it could be the vengeful spirit of a prostitute?”

“That’s what they think,” Kripke says, his voice serious and grave. “But what it, really is, is a very good killer who covers her tracks too well. The presence of Supernatural in the Winchester’s world is a red herring to throw off the readers. It’s like that old phrase, ‘Evil lurks where you least expect it.’”

Jensen’s heart starts beating painfully in his chest. The tips of his fingers have gone cold. The wind breezes in, whistling an eerie tune. Genevieve is still laughing but this time Jared is laughing with her. Jensen looks at them as a cold hand squeezes his heart painfully. Trepidation starts building in his mind. He feels like he is standing over an edge, looking down and seeing for the first time what his death will look like.

He feels like he has been waiting for this revelation since the moment his eyes landed on the leather-bound book in Ben’s house. His voice is eerily calm as he asks, “What happens at the end?”

“There’s no happy ending,” Kripke tells him solemnly.

Jensen nods slowly, looking at the director again. “Suppose I’m Dean, Jared’s Sam and Genevieve’s Ruby. What happens to us?”

Kripke looks between Jensen and Jared like he is honestly considering the question, trying to read their faces and predict their fates. When he raises his finger, he points it away from Jensen. He points it straight at Jared’s smiling face.

Jensen follows the finger, his eyes landing on Jared. “He dies,” he hears Kripke say. “She’ll be the one to kill him.”

The words echo in the silence of Jensen’s mind. He almost wishes he could hear clocks ticking and washing machines humming again.

 


	4. ACT IV

**Scene 19**

“I need to talk to you,” Jensen says, appearing at his side suddenly. Jared frowns. Jensen was looking so happy just moments ago. He isn’t smiling now. Worse, the stress lines around his eyes have reappeared and his eyes are cold, face set into a hard mask. Something’s up.

“Excuse me,” he tells Genevieve, who nods at him looking equally concerned. Jensen glares daggers at her, like she is the cause of every evil thing in the world. Jared rolls his eyes internally but, he had brought it upon himself. His plan to make Jensen jealous of Genevieve has worked better than he thought it would.

Jensen pulls him into his bedroom and locks the door behind him and shuts the windows. “Couldn’t wait till tonight, could you? We have guests, Jen.” Jared jokes to lighten the mood.

“This is serious, Jared,” Jensen snaps. All of Jared’s humor disappears, worry taking its place.

“What’s wrong?”

“We need to get out of here, pronto,” Jensen tells him, already working on packing his bags. The change of Jensen’s mood from ridiculously happy to ridiculously anxious almost gives Jared a whiplash. His eyes follow Jensen’s moments like a caged rabbit for a few moments before his brain catches up.

Jared rushes over to Jensen and stills his moving hands by taking them into his own. “Jen, what’s wrong? Talk to me, man.”

“There’s no time, Jared, we have to leave. Your bags are still mostly packed, right? I’ll ask Misha to take our bags out the back door – ”

“Jensen, I’m not going anywhere with you until you tell me what the fuck is going on,” Jared says, shaking Jensen once to make him stop his rambling.

“We’re in danger, all right?” Jensen says impatiently, pulling his hands out of Jared’s. “Genevieve over there? She is a psychopath – a killer and she’s going to gut us if we don’t haul ass.”

“What are you talking about?” Jared asks. His voice comes out a little hysterical because _what the hell?_   “I know you aren’t fond of Genevieve and that’s mostly my fault. But, isn’t calling her a psychopath taking it a little too far?”

“I’m not joking, Jared,” Jensen explodes before looking worriedly like he thinks the walls have ears. He drops his voice to a whisper. “This isn’t some stupid, petty jealousy issue,” he hisses. “I just talked to the writer. He says that Ruby is the monster Sam and Dean are hunting. Ruby is the killer and the only reason she got close to Sam was to kill them.”

Jared gapes at Jensen, incredulous. _Not this again_ , he thinks. _He was getting better_. “Jen, you know how crazy that sounds, right? Genevieve is _not_ Ruby. You are projecting your script into our real life.”

“I’m not crazy,” Jensen says. His eyes have got that wild look again. He looks like a panicked animal. “Everything that’s written in the script – Genevieve meeting us on the highway, the fight in the diner, the trucker assaulting her, Chad coming on and then our fight. It’s all in the script, down to the stupid detail of the fight ending with me getting wet. You can’t tell me that all of this is a big coincidence.”

“What about us, huh? Are Sam and Dean fucking too?” Jared asks. Jensen blanches at the harsh tone but he doesn’t back off.

“I’m just saying that the script is paralleling our lives. Everything can’t be exactly the way it’s written.”

“Jensen, this is crazy,” Jared says again. “The stupid script is not coming to life. This isn’t a movie. It’s reality. And you need help.”

Jensen flinches hard at that. But, the words are out and Jared can’t take them back. “You think I’m going crazy?”

“I’m saying you are not thinking straight. You are depressed or stressed out or I don’t know what. I didn’t believe it first when I heard about it but, I can see now. You’ve been acting weird, man. I thought I could help you but all I seem to do is mess you up even more – ”

“Wait! _Didn’t believe it when I first heard it_?” Jensen’s voice is low and dangerous as he says it. He is holding his body tense like he ready to pounce or run.

Jared curses his slip up but, he can’t lie to Jensen anymore. “The reason I cut my trip short and flew in was to check up on you. Danneel called me.”

Jensen’s eyebrows raise and understanding dawns on his face. He looks away, wiping his mouth with hands. “So, what? She told you I was off my rocker and you came to see for yourself?”

“It’s not like that, Jen,” Jared pleads. His hand moves to touch Jensen but, stills in mid-air when Jensen flinches. “Everyone is worried about you. That’s all.”

“I’m fine.”

“Stop – Stop saying that! You are not fine. You were seeing a psychiatrist and yeah, Danneel knew about that. But, you haven’t been taking your meds. I looked in your medicine cabinet when we were at your house. The bottle was almost full while they should have run out a week ago.”

“You were looking through my medicine cabinet?!?!” Jensen looks absolutely livid. Jared can see him closing off, pushing him away. He knows he has abused Jensen’s trust, lied to him but, he had no choice.

“I was worried about you!”

“You should have talked to me instead of going through my stuff!”

“Jensen I’m sorry but – ”

“You wanna know why I was seeing a psychiatrist? Because I was depressed. Not the slit-your-wrists kind of depressed but, empty-your-liquor-cabinet kind of depressed. And you know why that was? Because I was in love with someone that I thought I could never have!”

Jensen’s words hit Jared like a punch to the gut. “Jen, you know I –”

“I do now but, I didn’t 24 hours ago. And yeah, maybe I wasn’t taking those stupid meds but, I’m not crazy Jared. One out of every five nine-to-five workers sees a shrink – doesn’t mean they are crazy.” Jensen is telling Jared one of his biggest secrets but, he couldn’t be more cold and detached if he tried. Jared knows that whatever trust he had built with Jensen last night to get him to open up has been destroyed in the face of his admissions.

“I’m not calling you crazy,” Jared says weakly.

“You did exactly that.”

“Fine. Let’s forget about everything I said. Look at what you are telling me objectively. You are accusing an innocent girl of being a murderer because you think she is a character in the script you are working on – a script that you think is paralleling our lives even when you have no explanation as to why something like that would happen.”

“Well, when you put it like that…”

“It sounds crazy?” Jared prompts.

Jensen sighs tiredly. “Just please, _please_ Jared. Trust me on this. I’ll do anything you want me to do once we get out of here. I’ll see any doctor you want me to see. Hell, I’ll even check myself into a loony bin. But, we have to leave, now.”

Jared can hear the desperation in Jensen’s words and he wants to give in so badly. But, if he does that, he’ll only be adding fuel to Jensen’s paranoia. “All right, how about this? Genevieve is leaving this evening. If she doesn’t go by then we’ll leave, okay?”

“We are only giving her more time to chop our heads off,” Jensen argues.

“We don’t even know if Genevieve is a killer like you think she is. Until we have some proof or any reason to doubt her, I’m not going anywhere,” Jared says with finality.

Jensen glares at him with stormy eyes. His fists are rhythmically clenching and unclenching – a sure sign that he is trying to control his temper. “One more night!” Jensen concedes finally. “And if she isn’t out of here by then, we are leaving.”

“Okay.”

**Scene 20**

Michael Rosenbaum likes to get things done.

His clients trust him with secrets that they wouldn’t even share with their significant others. They usually need him to find a person or solve a case or retrieve a lost item. When the work is done, they usually never contact him again, invite him to dinners or even give him a simple thank you. They pay him, mostly in cash, and pretend that they don’t know him. But, Mike doesn’t mind that. He likes to get things done and every time he solves a case, he goes home a happy man.

His partner, in more ways than one, Tom Welling is usually in it for the puzzle. He likes the mystery and stays away from cases that aren’t interesting.

“Something’s not right about this,” he says for the 39th time. And yeah, Mike’s been counting.

“The delivery boy called,” Mike says, not acknowledging his partner’s ramblings. “He’s delivered the package.”

They are sitting in The Corner Café, which is just a block away from their main office in LA, drinking their morning coffee before beginning their day.

“He isn’t our guy,” Tom says. “I’m sure of it now.”

“And what makes you so sure?”

“His hands. Usually a writer’s hands – I mean the ones who _write_ instead of _type_ have rough hands. This guy’s were smooth as a baby’s.”

“That’s what’s got your panties in a twist?” Mike asks. “Smooth hands? Really?”

“It’s more than that,” Tom says. “Remember how he reacted when we told him that Jensen wanted to make a movie out of his script? He looked so incredulous, surprised.”

“Many first time writers think that their scripts will never make it to the big screen.”

“Yeah, but they at least hope that it will. This guy looked like he didn’t even buy us until we took him to Harris.”

Mike sighs. “Tom, I know you want this case to be some huge mystery waiting to be unraveled but it’s a clear cut thing man. I mean look at the facts. Eric Kripke and his brother Julian Kripke used to live in that godforsaken house in Lawrence. The Kripkes used to keep to themselves so no one knows much about them. But, they do know that Eric used to visit the post office every other weekend to post a letter. We know that those letters went to Edlund, his favorite writer. A fuse short-circuits in the house and the whole thing burns to the ground. A few months later Eric Kripke mailed the script to Edlund. We tracked Kripke down, delivered him to the director. Our job’s done.”

“What about why Kripke stopped sending those letters?” Tom asks. This is usually the routine for them. Even after they wrap up a case, especially the ones that get solved too easily, they go over the facts, ask questions and go over every possible angle until they are sure that they have actually solved the case. But, Tom is different during this discussion. He is acting like the job is not over – he’s not looking at it objectively.

“He moved away,” Mike answers.

“So, what? Sioux Falls doesn’t have a post office?”

“Hey, he was probably busy building a new life. And then there was this thing with his brother.”

Tom waves his hand around like he’s made a point. “Exactly. What’s the thing with his brother anyway? His death is a little too suspicious.”

“It was an accident, Tom.”

“Julian Kripke was killed in a fire that destroyed the brothers’ home in Sioux Falls. Two fires in two years. Doesn’t that raise any red flags?”

Mike frowns. “I’ll admit it’s a little weird. But, you can’t be thinking Eric Kripke killed his brother. There are simpler ways to kill someone than to stage, not one but, two fires. Besides, the cops didn’t find any evidence of foul play.”

“I’m not saying Eric killed his brother. But, there’s this.” Tom holds up one finger and opens his laptop. He types furiously for a few seconds before turning it to face Mike. “I contacted Sheriff Rhodes, my contact in South Dakota, to get the police report on the fire. She got back to me this morning. Read Eric’s statement.”

Mike squints as he reads the file Tom had opened. His eyes slowly widen until they are the size of saucers. “Julian Kripke was _pinned to the ceiling?_ ”

Tom nods vehemently, his blue eyes alight. “That’s what Eric said. The police didn’t believe him, obviously.”

“And you do?”

“Of course not. But, I think it’s interesting. Add that to the fact that Julian Kripke was hearing things for days before he checked out and what does it tell you?”

“That the Kripke clan is made of a bunch of loonies?” Mike asks.

Tom rolls his eyes. “Yeah, that and that there’s more to this case than meets the eye. I don’t think Eric Kripke is the writer of that script and I don’t think that the fire in Lawrence and the fire in Sioux Falls are unrelated.”

Mike rubs a hand over his face. This whole thing is giving him a headache. It was supposed to be a simple case of finding someone whose address the client didn’t know. He pulls out his phone and checks for any messages from Morgan. The inbox is empty.

He grins playfully at Tom. “Are you sure you aren’t trying to make this case out more than it actually is so that you can meet Jensen?” He just wants to lighten the mood since Tom looks so frustrated but, he is also a little curious.

Tom scoffs at him. “Of course not. Why would I do that?”

“Because you have a crush on him.” All right, Mike may be a little jealous.

“I do _not_ have a crush on Jensen Ackles,” Tom insists. “I’m just grateful to him. If it weren’t for him, we wouldn’t be together.”

“All he did was fuck you.”

“That’s what I meant,” Tom grins. “Me sleeping with him made you jealous enough to man up and admit your feelings for me.”

Mike rolls his eyes. “I didn’t ‘admit my feelings’ or do any emo-crap like that. I fucked you against the wall.”

“Same difference.”

They fall quiet for a moment after that before Tom continues in a more somber tone. “Though I will admit Jensen is part of the reason I am looking so much into this case.”

At Mike’s raised eyebrow, he elaborates. “Look, on paper this is a clean cut case and this Eric guy is a regular Joe Plumber who geeks out over writers during his spare time. But, all these loose ends in the case that I can’t tie together make me worried. And we just sent the guy to Jensen’s cabin. Jensen and Jared are alone out there. They didn’t even take their bodyguards. I just want to be sure that I didn’t make a mistake by sending Kripke to them.”

Mike nods. He might not be Jensen’s biggest fan, mainly because he and Tom share a history but he does admire the guy. He is a good friend of Tom’s and a friend of Mike’s by proxy. So, he is a little worried about this situation too. When Danneel had contacted him last night, asking him to send Eric Kripke to Jensen and Jared’s cabin, he had insisted that they be given more time do some thorough background checks on the guy. But, Danneel was insistent, said that Jensen wanted the guy at the cabin as soon as possible.

Mike had no choice but to send Eric to the cabin with one of his most trusted ‘delivery boys’. He had to cater to the client’s demands, after all.

Mike’s mobile pings and he pulls it out of his pocket.

_JD Morgan calling…_

Tom raises an eyebrow at him in askance. Mike mouths ‘Morgan’ and thumbs on the phone. After Tom’s ramblings last night in bed about how they should have done a more thorough check on Eric, Mike had contacted his friend Jeffery Dean Morgan, a detective in the LAPD, and asked him to pull out Kripke’s file. They had already known that Kripke didn’t have a criminal record but, they hadn’t had time to dig deeper than that.

Now, Mike listens to JD talk and responds with a “Mhmm”, “Ok”, or “I see.” When JD tells him all that he had found out, he says, “Thank you, JD. I have a feeling I’ll need your help. So keep your mobile on you. I’ll call you in a few, okay? Thanks, man. I owe you one.”

“What is it?” Tom asks, leaning forward. He must see it Mike’s face that something’s up because he is already calling for the check.

“I think you might be right about there being something more to the case than what meets the eye. Julian Kripke was married.”

Mike pauses when their waitress arrives with their check. “Why the hell didn’t we know about her before now?” Tom asks when she leaves.

“Probably because we looked into Eric Kripke’s file and not Julian Kripke’s and we didn’t talk to the people who actually knew the Kripkes. We should have gone to Lawrence,” Mike says regretfully. He pulls up a photograph on his phone that JD just emailed him and shows it to Tom. “That’s Mrs. Kripke, he says.” Tom squints at the picture of the young brunette, probably committing every line and contour of the face to his eidetic memory.

“What do we know about her? And where the hell is she?”

“That’s the thing. No one knows,” Mike tells him. “Supposedly she ran away. The last time anyone saw her was five years ago. The people who knew her say she was mentally unstable, prone to bouts of violence.”

“Supposedly ran away?” Tom’s razor sharp mind catches the little detail.

“Yeah, well the rumor around that little town in Lawrence was that the brothers kept her on lock and key. That she was in the house on the night of the fire. People say they heard bloodcurdling screams right before the fire started.”

Tom lets out a weary exhale and rubs his face with his hands. “But, there weren’t any fatalities in the fire. There were no bodies found.”

“Yeah but, you saw the pictures of the house. There was nothing left of it. Identifying remains in that pile of ash is almost impossible.”

“So, you’re saying that Julian Kripke’s wife died in that fire but, Julian and Eric covered it up? Why would they do that?”

Mike shakes his head. “I don’t know, man. Neither of them would stand to gain anything from her death, Eric would stand to gain nothing form Julian’s death. But, there is something fishy.”

Tom rubs his eyes hard and keeps them covered as he speaks. “Or Mrs. Kripke escaped the fire and for some reason killed Julian Kripke.”

“There’s more,” Mike says, smiling without any humor at Tom’s groan. “The girl that Jensen asked us to check up on? Genevieve Cortese? JD just got back to me on her. There’s a Genevieve Cortese in LA. She’s been in a coma in the Kaiser Memorial Hospital for the past two years.”

Tom’s eyes open suddenly. He looks alarmed. “Didn’t Jensen say that this girl hitched a ride with them?”

“Yeah, he did. Why?”

“The murders on the highway,” he whispers in horror.

“We gotta get Jensen and Jared out of there now!”

**Scene 21**

The only clock in the house, other than their wrist watches, is the digital clock sitting on the fireplace mantle in the living room. And Jensen is thankful for that. He thinks if he ever hears a clock ticking again, it will be too soon.

The clock reads 5:30. But, outside its dark like it’s past midnight. The wind howls as it passes through the clearing. It’s gotten cold enough in the house that Misha had turned on the central heater. But, Jensen still feels the chill down to his bone.

“What is she still doing here?” he whispers to Jared.

Jared shrugs a shoulder. “Relax, Jen. Her car was supposed to come around at 6. Look. She’s all packed and ready to leave. I’m sure Genevieve doesn’t want to stay here any longer than you do – what, with you constantly creeping on her and all.”

“I wasn’t creeping on her,” Jensen mutters indignantly. He was just keeping an eye on Genevieve, watching her every move – even planting himself firmly in the living room every time she goes into the bathroom. Jensen wasn’t creeping on her. He was just making sure that he doesn’t turn his back on her.

Jared clamps a hand down on Jensen’s thigh, halting his constant thumping of his foot. “Stop that. You are making _me_ tired with your constant movement.”

“I can’t help it,” Jensen says, making a conscious effort to keep his foot still. But, he feels restless, counting every minute and second as it passes. He just wants the night be over and done with so he can get Jared back to the safety of his home in LA.

The two of them are in the living room, watching Game of Thrones reruns. Well, Jensen thinks they are. Jared is watching the show because he had missed it when he was in Hawaii. Jensen just stares unseeingly at the screen before his eyes inevitably dart to the door to Genevieve’s room or the clock. He’s already seen the show, anyway, so he doesn’t mind much. Misha is out back, doing God knows what. Genevieve has shut herself in her room for the past 2 hours, probably thinking about the best way to rip Jensen and Jared’s intestines out. Kripke is upstairs, catching up on lost sleep.

After their conversation that morning, the atmosphere in the cabin has grown tense. Everyone was skirting around each other, answering with grunts and single syllable responses when asked a direct question. Jensen feels on edge, knowing what he does. Jared had been keeping an eye on Jensen, looking at him suspiciously like he is going to spontaneously combust any time soon. Genevieve had been disgruntled by Jensen’s unwavering glare. Misha had long since given up trying to understand what was happening and kept to himself.

The one that surprised Jensen the most was Eric Kripke. The writer was in good spirits that morning when he had arrived, even insisting that he didn’t need sleep and was ready to start working on the script. But, sometime after lunch, his demeanor had changed. His bubbly voice had turned gravely and rough, like something was cloying his windpipe and choking his words. His eyes became wilder if that was even possible. His little finger was constantly twitching. Tiny tremors ran through his body like he was cold and he startled easily. And finally, at around 5, Eric had asked to be excused and retreated to his bed upstairs.

Jensen probably wouldn’t have noticed all of this if he weren’t observing Eric’s and Genevieve’s every single movement like an obsessed conspiracy theorist. But, the change was still interesting and a little disconcerting.

“Jens? You with me?” Jared’s voice suddenly pipes up.

“Mmm…” Jensen hums, not really paying any attention.

“Jensen, are you okay?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“’Cause I’ve been rubbing myself over you like a cat in heat for the past 20 minutes and you haven’t paid me the slightest bit of attention. Frankly, I’m insulted,” Jared says sourly.

“Oh, um… sure.”

Jared stops talking then and Jensen has no choice but, to look at him. Jared looks furious and a little hurt, too. He is pulling one of his infamous bitch-faces as he glares at Jensen. “What?” Jensen asks innocently.

“Forget it,” Jared spits, launching himself to his feet.

Jared looks really angry – angry enough that Jensen has to tread lightly or risk having his ass kicked to the curb. But, his mind is really preoccupied right now and Jared’s flaring nostrils don’t register in his brain. So, he says, “Uh, Jared…” He waits till Jared turns around to face him. “I was thinking I’ll sleep in my room tonight. We have a writer in the cabin and – ”

Jensen stops talking as Jared’s expression turns into that of pure misery. His eyes fill with tears and his lower lip wobbles. He is pulling his famous puppy dog eyes now. Great! “Are you breaking up with me?” Jared asks, his voice shaking a little.

The hurt and insecurity in Jared’s eyes gets Jensen’s full attention. He is on his feet and in front of Jared in the blink of an eye. “What? No. No. God, Jared. I am not breaking up with you.”

“But, you just said…”

“You should let me finish talking before jumping to conclusions,” Jensen says softly. He cuts a glance towards the stairs and when he’s satisfied that Kripke isn’t coming down any time soon, he takes Jared’s face in his hands. “Baby, we have a writer here. A writer with whom I could probably work with. I just thought it would be better if we keep our hands to ourselves when he’s here. And I won’t be able to do that if I sleep next to you.”

Jared still looks unsure so Jensen moves closer until they are breathing the same air. “This thing between us is still so new, Jare. I just don’t want to bring the entire world into it.”

Jared nods his understanding, cupping Jensen’s hands on his face with his own. “You’re not mad at me, are you? For not leaving when you asked me to.”

“Of course not, Jared. Look, I know how crazy I sound. I have reasons to think that Genevieve is out to kill us. I still think that but, I also know I might be batshit insane.”

“You are not,” Jared cuts in.

Jensen kisses his lips once chastely. “I am not but, I might be. And you are worried about me. I get that. I’m worried about you too. I’m just scared that something bad might happen to you and I won’t be strong enough to save you. But, I am not mad at you. I can never be angry with you. You know that.”

Jared gives him a weak smile. “What about going through your stuff and all that?”

“Yeah, you’re still not off the hook for that one but… I get why you did what you did.”

Jared’s dimples make an appearance as he gives Jensen a face splitting smile. “I love you, Jen. We’ll leave first thing tomorrow morning if you still want to.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Jensen breathes out a sigh of relief. “Thanks Jay. Hey, look. Could you lock your bedroom door tonight? And don’t open it for anyone but me, okay?”

“Jen-” Jared starts.

“Just –please, Jared. For me.”

Jared sighs. “Fine.” He places a kiss on the corner of Jensen’s lips before going into his room.

With Jared in his room, Jensen sits alone in the living room. He changes the TV to a news channel and mutes it. Jensen had never been comfortable with silence when he is all by himself. But, he also can’t bear to listen to anything when he is thinking or working. The house is still, with all its occupants lost in their own worlds. Jensen hates stillness. He debates going up to Genevieve’s room and asking her when she will be leaving but thinks better of it. Instead, he pours himself a drink, noting that it’s almost 6 in the evening. He lights himself a cigarette to go with it.

The wind has picked up speed and the windows rattle, the trees shake and groan under its force. The muted glow of the TV and a couple of table lamps leave the house in a semi-darkness that accentuates the tension that has settled into the atmosphere.

Jensen is not an idiot. And he wasn’t lying when he told Jared that he understands why Jared wouldn’t believe him about this. But, he does know that he is not going insane. Until last night, even Jensen wasn’t so sure of himself. His nightmares and loss of temper all pointed to him slowly but surely heading towards a psychotic break. But, whatever was wrong with him fixed itself the moment he heard Jared say “I love you.”

Now, Jensen doesn’t feel like he is carrying the weight of a passenger on his shoulders.

However, that doesn’t mean that everything is right in Jensen’s world right now. It had been that morning, until he saw Genevieve’s face, and it won’t be right again until he sees the brunette off.

There is a pressure in his ears, pressing into his eardrums and making his head ache. He feels vaguely nauseous but it isn’t his stomach that’s roiling. The feeling originates in his brain, where it feels like his skull is being squeezed in a juicer. He feels the way he felt when he first travelled by plane. Jensen shakes his head like a wet dog to get rid of the ache in his ears. It doesn’t work. He takes a long drag of his cigarette and leans back into the sofa, resting his head on the backrest. He waits for the feeling to pass, for his ears to pop out again.

The picture on the TV screen wavers before turning into static and going off. The table lamps in the house flicker and crackle unsteadily before dying out completely. In the darkness left behind, the burning tip of Jensen’s cigarette looks like a demon’s eye.

Jensen bolts upright on the couch and holds his breath. The sky’s cloudy and not a single moonbeam makes it into the clearing. The cabin is so dark that Jensen can’t even see his own hands in front of him. The wind picks up, its cries resounding eerily in the silence. A _thud thud thud_ starts up as a wayward branch from a sagging tree hits one of the window panes on the upper floor. There is no movement inside the house – just perfect stillness that makes Jensen’s skin crawl and erupt in goose bumps.

A floorboard creaks to his right. Jensen turns his head sharply in the direction of the sound, out of pure instinct, even though he can’t see a thing.

“Misha?” he calls out softly, even though he wants to yell.

His hands shake and fumble as Jensen reaches into his pocket, looking for his lighter. He curses under his breath when he realizes that he’d taken it out when he lit his cigarette and left it out.

Another creak, closer this time, and Jensen starts clawing at the couch in search of his lighter. He has half a mind to call out to Jared. But, then he remembers that Jared’s room is locked. He is safer inside.

Jensen stubs his little finger painfully when he reaches out blindly towards the coffee table but, the adrenaline running though his system makes sure that he doesn’t feel anything more than a slight pinch.

Just as his fingers close around the cool plastic of the lighter, he hears another creak behind him. His panic spikes when he flicks on the lighter and nothing happens. His fingers are shaking, there’s someone behind him and the damn lighter won’t work.

Click. Click.

 Nothing.

Another creak. Whoever it is, is now breathing down his neck.

Click. Click.

His whole body freezes up as he feels the hand hovering over his shoulder, the wispy ends of the long hair brushing the base of his neck. His heart thunders in his chest. The wind howls.

The fingers curl around his neck like a caress before clamping down on his windpipe with enough force to make colors dance behind his retinas. The lighter clatters as it hits the floor. Jensen’s hands fly up to his neck and…

The pressure on his throat is gone as fast as it had appeared. Jensen’s fingers touch the clammy skin of his neck and there’s nothing there but sweat and his rapid pulse.

The lights flicker back on and the TV screen lights up the room with its muted glow.

Breathing still choppy and a hand still touching his neck, Jensen turns around in his seat to take in his surroundings. He is just as alone as he was when the lights went out. His eyes immediately cut to Genevieve’s door and finds it closed, just as it had been for the past hour and a half.

“Breaking news.” A female voice reverberated in the silence of the cabin, making Jensen jump in his seat.

“The Los Angeles Police Department has released a statement saying that recently uncovered evidence has led them to believe that The Highway Killer is a dark-haired female. Making headlines all across USA, the Highway Killer is responsible for the gruesome murders of 13 people on the Californian Highways, 3 of whom were women, in the past year. 5 of those murders have occurred in the past 3 months alone. Two more young men were found dead last night, increasing the number of victims to 15. Their bodies were found in their car, which was driven off road and into the dense vegetation flanking the road.”

Until the discovery of these bodies, the police have had no leads as to who the perpetrator of these crimes was. However, one of the men in the car was recording a phone conversation with a friend. According to the recording, the men had been on their way to a friend’s wedding when they encountered a ‘hot brunette’ on the highway. The phone conversation ended shortly after that and the police think that that the victims and the perpetrator were unaware of this conversation being recorded, possibly having activated a voice recording app by accident. This new evidence leads police to believe that the Highway Killer is a dark-haired female, who poses as a helpless hitchhiker, eventually murdering the people who give her a ride. The LAPD has urged the public to refrain from giving rides to strange females on the highways…”

The voice of the female news reporter fades away into the background as the pounding of his heart echoes in his head. Jensen can’t hear anything over the rush of blood in his ears. Sweat runs in rivulets down Jensen’s spine and drips from the short hairs at his neck. Jensen is gripping the edge of his sofa hard enough to tear away pieces of it.

All Jensen can see however is the TV screen, which is showing two images cascaded vertically. On the right is the picture of two twenty-something men, arms around each other’s shoulders, with wide grins on their faces. They remind Jensen painfully of him and Jared. But, that’s not the reason his throat runs dry when he sees their picture.

He knows those men. He’s seen their pictures before on a mobile phone, shown to him by Chad Michael Murray.

_I’m actually headed to a friend’s wedding. I was supposed to travel with a couple of friends. They left last night._

_This is James and that’s Austin. My best bros._

The left side is the picture of the area where the victims’ car was found. Jensen’s seen that place before. That was where he and Jared had rescued Genevieve.

_The truck is inconspicuous, parked next to a railing that looks over a steep drop into the forest below. It isn’t a cliff and the drop isn’t too deep but the thick vegetation makes it a dangerous spot. Jensen notices that the railing’s broken at a point but he can’t see any cars wrapped around the trees so he lets it go._

There still aren’t any cars visible from the road but, the camera cuts to the dirt off the road, leading into the trees and tire tracks become visible. But, there’s more. The ground looks redder in some spots and Jensen instinctively knows what it is.

_Dried blood._

Jensen is beating Jared’s door down before he can even think about what he is doing.

“Jared! Jared, open the door.” Jensen doesn’t scream because if he does, _she_ will hear him. Even now, he isn’t sure if she can’t hear him but, he has to take the chance.

“Jared –”

Jared yanks the door open, making it rattle in its hinges with the force. He almost mows Jensen down in his hurry to run out of the room but, holds himself back in the last second before his body collides with Jensen’s.

“What?” he asks breathlessly. It sounds more like a sob. His hair sticks out in every which way and his eyes dart around Jensen’s face, wild and panicked.

“What? Jensen, what is it?”

Jensen pushes himself inside the room, pulling Jared in with him and shutting the door behind them. “Jared. We have to leave now. I was just watching the news. You know about the California Highway Killer, right? The LAPD just announced that the serial killer is a dark-haired female.”

Jared’s shoulders sag and he suddenly looks too tired. Jensen can see the doubt in his face, the words forming on his lips. He doesn’t let them gain any voice.

“They even showed the location of her latest kill. Remember that spot where we rescued Genevieve from the trucker? Do you remember that a section of the railing was broken off? That’s where she killed two men. And not just anyone. The two friends Chad was talking about? They are dead, Jared. And Genevieve killed them. Murdered them so gruesomely that they aren’t even showing the dead bodies. Think about it. What if Genevieve was actually planning to kill the trucker and dispose his body in the same way too? We have to leave, Jared. Or she’s going to kill us just like she killed them.”

Jensen’s ramblings only stop because he runs out of breath. Jared looks at him like he is looking at a stranger.

“Have you lost your goddamned mind?” Jared asks, incredulously. Hurt blooms in Jensen’s chest but, he pushes it away.

“Jared, just listen to me on this. We decided we were going to leave in the morning anyway. Why not go earlier, huh?”

“Jensen, I only agreed to leave in the morning because you looked like you wanted to leave so badly,” Jared says tiredly. His lips are pinched in a frown and there’s a thin line on his forehead that he rubs at with his forefinger and thumb. “But, I am beginning to think that I am only encouraging your fantasies.”

“A three way with George Clooney and Angelina Jolie is a fantasy,” Jensen retorts. “This is reality. I don’t care if I have to knock you out to get you out of here but, I will do it Jared.”

Jensen pushes Jared away bodily and walks further into the room to Jared’s closet. All of Jared’s clothes are unpacked, unlike Jensen’s and he curses. “Fuck, Jared. Why the hell do you have your clothes unpacked?” He doesn’t wait for an answer and just pulls out Jared’s bags and starts stuffing things randomly into them.

“Jen, listen to me, please.”

“No. You listen to me,” he points an accusing finger towards Jared. “You promised me yesterday that if Genevieve isn’t out of here by evening, we’d leave. She’s still here and doesn’t look like she is leaving any time soon so we are going. Get the car ready.”

Jared leaves the room with an agitated huff. Jensen hopes that he is following Jensen’s orders and getting the car started. But, even as he thinks it, he knows he is hoping for too much. Jared is probably headed to Genevieve’s room to ask her why she is still here. He doesn’t want to let Jared out of his sight, especially when there is a chance that Genevieve could get to him but they don’t have time. They need to split up, get work done.

He thinks about the best excuse he can give to Misha and Eric Kripke to get them to come with him. All the while his hands keep working and his ears strain to hear the sound of a knock or a door opening or a car engine starting.

He totally misses the fact that the TV is now muted. And that he had it muted when the power went out.

Footsteps approach him and even without looking up, Jensen knows that it’s Jared’s heavy footfall. Jared stands in the doorway with his arms folded over his chest and watches Jensen for a few seconds. He isn’t smiling, he isn’t frowning. His expression is just blank with a twinge of sadness in his expressive hazel eyes. Jensen refuses to let that make him feel guilty. _I am doing this for Jared_.

“I think you are overreacting,” Jared says, breaking the silence. His voice his flat and emotionless.

Jensen whirls on him. “Ignorance isn’t bliss Jared. I can’t just shut my eyes, put my fingers into my ears and pretend that we are not about to die.”

A hint of irritation crawls into Jared’s voice when he says, “I am not asking you to be ignorant. I am asking you to be reasonable. We have no way of leaving the forest so we might as well stay put.”

“What?” Jensen near-whispers.

“The very same channel that you saw the news about the serial killer just telecasted the weather report. Open the windows.” Jared jerks his head towards the windows on either side of his bed. When Jensen makes no move to open them, he pushes with a “Go on.”

The moment Jensen throws open the windows in Jared’s room, he has to shield his eyes against the dirt that hits his face. Dried and fresh leaves alike fly into the room. The wind howls and whistles, raging on, bending even the sturdiest tree branches till they break. The open windows rattle and shake, the dry hinges creaking ominously with every move. He smells ozone in the air.

And just like that, Jensen knows he’s trapped.

“A storm’s headed our way,” Jared says unnecessarily. “Fallen trees are going to block our way out. Our car isn’t in the best condition either. Our safest bet would be to stay in the cabin and wait for the storm to pass. This is a practical problem, Jen. Not based on a theory that a movie script is paralleling real life.”

The words sting, just like they were meant to. Jensen can still feel Jared’s eyes on his back. He hasn’t moved from his position against the door, waiting for Jensen to challenge his logic. Jensen’s got nothing.

“Fuck!” He slams his hand against the window frame in frustration.

He pushes past Jared on his way out of the room, muttering a “Lock the door” as he passes. He heads into his bedroom and grabs the keys to his Ford. When he enters the living room again, he is somewhat satisfied to see that Jared had indeed locked his door. With one final glance at Genevieve’s room, he heads out of the cabin.

Jared’s right, his car isn’t in prime condition, especially after all the miles they had travelled to get to the cabin. They’ve also used their spare tire. Jensen was hoping to get the car serviced in Cantrell Town but, that’s not going to happen any time soon. He knows that Jared’s logic is infallible, that they are in just as much risk heading out in a storm as they are in staying in with a possible psychopath. But, Jensen just can’t admit defeat.

He hops into the car and guns the engine, hoping to God or whoever will listen that Jared will be safe until he returns. Driving out of the clearing, Jensen knows that he is taking a risk by going off alone into the storm without so much as a first aid kit. The trees are leaning forward, more than the usual, the lowest branches hitting the top of his car. The headlights throw menacing shadows across the road as he drives.

Not even half a mile away from the clearing, Jensen is forced to stop his car when he encounters a road block. A young twisted pine tree blocks the road, uprooted by the force of the wind. Jensen curses under his breath as he gets out of the car to try and shift the tree. But, even he is not vain enough to think that he can shift the tree alone. He tries anyway, grunting with the effort and sweating in the cold night air.

He gives up five minutes later and stands in front of his car, with both his hands twisted into his hair. He feels helpless and so fucking useless. He had hoped that the road, the only one leading out of the clearing, would stay unblocked until at least a mile – where he would reach a back road leading into Bedford County. Clearly, luck was not in his favor. He doesn’t know why he’d thought it would be otherwise.

Tears of frustration pool in Jensen’s eyes as he drives back to the cabin.

**Scene 22**

The bed dips at the foot and Jensen feels a weight pressing down right next to his leg. The weight moves upward, crawling over him. A large, warm hand rubs at his thigh, pulling his shorts up.

“Jare…” Jensen sighs.

Jared nuzzles into Jensen’s crotch, rubbing his cheek against his half-hard cock. His hands settle on Jensen’s hips, kneading them, as he mouths at Jensen’s dick.

“C’mere,” Jensen says sleepily.

He feels Jared knee-walk up the mattress and stop when he is straddles Jensen’s thigh. Jared splays his hands over Jensen’s chest and leans down. It gets a little harder for Jensen to breathe. _Damn, he is heavy_ , he thinks. Jensen feels a hot puff of breath on his face and his eyelashes flutter.

Jensen opens his eyes. Just as he raises his hands to hold Jared and pull him down into a kiss, his breath catches in his throat. He freezes because it’s not Jared above him. It’s Genevieve.

Jensen opens his mouth to ask her what the fuck she is doing, to scream, to do something. But, his body is paralyzed, not a single muscle moving. He can do nothing but lie back and watch in horror as the beautiful face rots before his very eyes, as the hair withers and falls off.

Genevieve’s skin turns brow, shrivels and dries up. Maggots tear holes into her sunken cheeks and crawl out. Her dark eyes melt and trickle down her cheeks like murky tears, leaving hollow, bottomless pits behind. The corpse opens its toothless mouth and the putrid smell hits Jensen hard like a truck slamming into his chest – the smell of plague and death.

Its tongue snakes out, licking its lips, catching a few drops of the muddy liquid pooling above its upper lip. It smiles – slow and wide and horrifying – before opening its mouth as far as it will go. It still doesn’t stop, keeps going until the jaw unhinges and the lips tear at the seams, connected only by sinews of decayed muscle. Its mouth opens until it is wide enough to swallow Jensen’s head. It groans a loud, agonizing sound as it descends on Jensen’s face, drowning him in darkness as it sucks his soul out…

Air floods into his lungs as Jensen jerks awake from his sleep like a newborn taking in his first greedy swallows of oxygen. He gasps like a fish, eyes wide open, heart in his throat and hands on his chest. His hair is sticking to his forehead in sweaty clumps and his t-shirt is plastered to his back. His heart is beating a mile a minute and his lungs burn as they expand and contract violently. His stomach roils and Jensen tastes bile in his throat. He pushes it back with a wince and rubs hard against his sternum to soothe the ache there.

Jensen keeps his eyes on his lap and tries to ride out the wave of dizziness that hits him. He feels disoriented and has trouble figuring out which way is up and which is down for a few seconds. There’s a headache forming behind his temples and a low buzzing sound in his ears. He shakes his head hard to clear it and curses instantly when the nausea hits him again.

When Jensen is finally sure that all his limbs are under his control or that his head isn’t going to explode, he lifts his eyes to take in his surroundings. Everything is just where he left it. The house is just as silent and lifeless as it was when he had fallen asleep. The storm outside is raging on and Jensen can feel the very foundations of the house shake when the wind hits.

He notices that there is a definite lack of Genevieve or rotting corpses in the room.

His shoulders slump and Jensen lets out a frustrated sigh. _I thought it was over_ , he thinks. He thought that the nightmares were gone, that somehow he was fine now that he had no reason to be depressed.

 _I have a reason to be scared_. Now that the panic from his nightmare has receded Jensen can see how different this one was from his other nightmares. In his previous nightmares, he usually smelled smoke. There was almost always a background noise of washing machines or clocks. But, this time there was nothing. He didn’t feel like he had actually lived the nightmare, touched the rotting corpse with his hands or smelt the decaying flesh. It was more like a shadow – indefinable and obscure.

This time it truly was a nightmare – a fucked up one, sure, but just a nightmare.

The wet sound of water dripping greets Jensen when he enters the living room. The kitchen sink is steadily dripping water, the only other companion to the sound of Jensen’s footfalls. The wind whistling outside is a constant background noise. But, the house itself is silent like everyone and everything in the house is holding its breath.

The sound of gushing water breaks the silence for a few blissful moments as Jensen splashes cold water onto his face. The water is frigid, sure to make him numb if he holds his hands under it for too long. But, it feels good on his face as it washes away the traces of his nightmare. Jensen stands there for a moment longer, just breathing and clutching the porcelain edge of the sink. There’s no mirror above the kitchen sink and he’s grateful for that. He doesn’t think he wants to look at how ragged he looks right now.

Jensen pulls out a water bottle from the refrigerator and drains half of it in one go, not even caring the slightest when cool water dribbles down his chin. After replacing the bottle, Jensen debates throwing caution to wind and going to Jared. He decides against it, doesn’t want to disturb Jared’s sleep, and instead goes to his room to fetch a cigarette. He feels cold and on edge and he really needs a nicotine fix if he wants to get through the night with his sanity intact.

The moment Jensen steps out into the living room he knows something is wrong. He just takes a long drag of his cigarette while trying to put his finger on what it is that has got his hackles rising. Then he sees it. Genevieve’s bedroom door is open.

Licking his lips nervously, Jensen makes his way across the living room to Genevieve’s room, wincing when a floorboard creaks under his foot. He realizes he needn’t have bothered with keeping quiet when he reaches Genevieve’s room. The sheets on the queen sized bed are rumpled and lying half on the floor. But, Genevieve’s not in them.

Genevieve’s not in her room and Jensen doesn’t know where she is.

Even as he moves towards the guest bathroom, he knows he won’t find Genevieve there. It’s too quiet – no sound of feet shuffling or toilets flushing or water running through pipes. And sure enough, the bathroom is empty when Jensen opens it. Jensen tries to push back the panic raising in his chest, he does but, it’s impossible. Genevieve’s awake and Jensen doesn’t know where she is or what she is doing.

Before Jensen can full on panic, a sound cuts in through the blood roaring in his ears – the steady _thump, thump, thump_. And it’s not his heart that’s making the sound.

The front door is partially opened, beating against its frame in tandem with the gusts of winds. Now that Jensen is looking for it, he can feel the cool air hitting his skin and hear the sound of wind rushing in through cracks. Apprehension growing with each step Jensen reaches the front door, stilling its frantic movements with a hand on the doorknob. He pulls the door back slowly, praying that it doesn’t creak, dreading what he will see on the outside.

The rope-swing hanging outside the house, tied to a high branch of one of the trees on the edge of the clearing, squeaks in protest as it swings to-and-fro in the wind. Standing on it, dressed in nothing but a sheer white gown that barely covers the swell of her ass, is Genevieve. Her long hair flows behind her as she swings, staring straight ahead, looking like a twisted and morbid wet dream.

Genevieve’s face turns towards Jensen suddenly like someone had snapped her neck and Jensen sees the wide toothy grin she’s wearing.

A scream tears out of Jensen’s throat and his lit cigarette falls to the ground as he rushes into the house.

“Jared! Jared!” Jensen yells slamming his fists on the wooden door of Jared’s bedroom.  His voice is drowned by the howls of the wind.

When Jared opens the door he looks tired but not panicked. “What is it?” he asks cocky his head to the side, clearly asking _What is it now?_

“Gen-Genevieve,” Jensen stutters, pointing to the door and moving his lips around soundless words. It takes a moment for him to gather his wits and organize his thoughts into words.  “Genevieve, she’s outside. Standing on the swing. What kind of sane person does that during a storm, Jared?”

Jared looks skeptical and Jensen is getting used to see that look on him. There used to be a time when Jensen would have told Jared that the sun rose in the west and Jared would have agreed.

Jared sighs. “Fine. Let’s go,” he says, voice patronizing.

Jensen follows him to the front door and says, “Look at her,” pointing in the general direction of the swing. He steps beside Jared onto the porch and stops.

Dried leaves fly up, swirling in the air currents. The trees are still shaking hard and the wind continues to roar. The swing set creaks as it swings to and fro, its ropes occasionally twisted around each other. But, Genevieve is no longer standing on the swing.

“Bu-But. She was right here. I swear she was right here, in a white dress, right here,” Jensen’s words come out a garbled mess as he stares hard at the abandoned swing. He turns to look at Jared hoping that he will a glimmer of trust in those eyes, that Jared doesn’t he is crazy.

What he finds is even worse. Jared is looking at him with _pity_. “I’ll show you where Genevieve is. C’mon,” he says softly like he is speaking to a child.

Jensen closes the front door behind him as he follows Jared into the house, mind still reeling. He had seen Genevieve not a minute ago. Where could she have run in such a short time? He finds his answer when Jared opens Genevieve’s unlocked bedroom door. Jared jerks a head, indicating Jensen to look inside.

He finds Genevieve asleep under the sheets. The sheets are mostly on the bed, covering her so that only her shoulders and head are visible. Jensen notices that she isn’t wearing a white gown but a short sleeved black t-shirt. Her hair is bed rumpled but too neat to be windswept. Genevieve looks like she hasn’t woken from her bed in the last 2 hours and she doesn’t wake up when Jared shuts the door and turns to Jensen with a raised eyebrow.

“She-she was. I swear she was outside,” Jensen whispers, trying to make sense of what he is seeing.

Jared’s hand lands on his shoulder and Jensen looks up to meet his eyes. “Jen…” Jared pauses and Jensen knows that he won’t like what he’s going to hear next. Sure enough Jared says, “Maybe you should sleep in my room?”

Jensen shrugs Jared’s hand off. “You think I’m a little kid who needs to sleep in Mommy’s bed after a nightmare?” Jensen hisses, his voice dripping with venom.

“No! Jen I didn’t mean that.”

“What did you mean? I know what I saw Jared.”

Jared opens his mouth like he is about to retort but stops himself from saying whatever he was about to. He sighs and shakes his head, rubbing his forehead with his fingers. “You know what? I’m not doing this now. I don’t want to get into a fight with you. Go to bed, Jen. We’ll talk when we get to LA tomorrow.”

With that Jared goes into his room, dragging his feet as he moves. Jensen stands in the living room alone for a long time, looking at Genevieve’s room. For a moment he wonders if he was seeing things. It might be a weird continuation of his nightmare. That would mean that Jensen is now dreaming when awake. It doesn’t make him feel any better than the thought of Genevieve being a psychopath.

Jensen pours himself a glass of chilled whiskey – he never got to finish the one he poured himself earlier – and settles on the bar stools at the kitchen island. Jensen is idly playing with the ring of condensation the drink leaves on the black marble counter when he feels his hackles rise. His body tenses instinctively, gearing up for a fight, a primitive response to the proximity of a predator. He feels eyes on his back and turns around slowly.

Genevieve stands in the doorway of her bedroom, door opened just enough for Jensen to see that she is wearing a sheer white dress. She doesn’t say anything, makes no sound. Just watches Jensen from under her messy hair with unblinking eyes. Jensen stares back at her, trying to mask his fear as he swallows convulsively. After what seems like an eternity, she closes her door just as quietly as she had opened it.

It feels like a warning.

**Scene 23**

The hallway is dark but there’s a light at the very end. Muted orange light spills out from an open door and his feet take him towards it. The place smells stale and faintly of bleach. The walls of the room are painted in a dull grey color. No picture frames or decorations hang on them. The far wall has two large windows but they have been blacked out with what looks like opaque tape. The room is sparsely furnished. There’s a bed with plain grey sheets though he’s not sure if they were meant to be grey. The sheets mustn’t have had a good wash in at least 6 months. There’s a cupboard with its doors removed housing some clothes, towels and sheets. There’s a locked trunk at the foot of the bed and a rocker chair close to it.

The furnishings take up less than half of the space and leave the room looking huge and desolate. He can’t find a mirror or a book or the usual clutter that makes up a living space. It would be easy to assume no one lives here if it weren’t for the rumpled sheets and the walker over, filthy beige carpet telling him otherwise.

There was an attached bathroom without a door and a single lamp standing tall in one corner. The lamp’s harsh orange light doesn’t even reach some parts of the room but, the corner it’s standing in is brightly illuminated. There in the corner he sees a silhouette sitting cross-legged close to the lamp, back to him.

The figure is constantly rocking forwards and backwards, her hands folded in her lap. She is wearing a loose fitting, short-sleeved white nightdress. Her wild dark hair hangs off her shoulders, clumped and greasy. She hums a soft tune, low in her throat. It sounds sweet and peaceful like a babe’s lullaby but there’s an undercurrent of sadness in it, a lonely tilt to every note. It fills him with a sense of melancholy, hopelessness so strong it threatens to buckle his knees.

He moves forward and the lady stops singing but continues to keep rocking. “Hey?” he calls out, keeping his voice soft and low. He doesn’t get a response. Reaching forward to touch the woman’s shoulder, he stops when the floorboard creaks under his weight. The lady stops rocking.

“Come to kill me?” she asks, still turned away, the deep melodic voice making it sound like she is greeting a long lost friend.

He doesn’t have a response to that, can’t figure out what his response should be, so he waits. He doesn’t have to wait long. “Haven’t you killed me already?” the lady asks and he hears a smile in her voice.

The lady turns her face to him and he chokes on a scream, fumbling over his legs in an attempt to get back, to get away from her.

“Don’t you like me now? But, this is what you turned me into,” the lady says. Her brown, wrinkled lips move, showing a toothless mouth. Her face is decaying; pieces of the rotten flesh hang by sinews of meat. Her beautiful dark hair frames her decomposed face, a stark contrast between life and death.

The corpse moves onto all fours and starts crawling towards him. He turns, ready to run for his life, and sees that the room has been sealed off. The door he had entered the room through is gone, all exits shut. When he looks at the corpse again – can’t help it, has to see – he sees the thing turning its head sideways at an impossible angle. She crawls towards him leaving a trail of murky, putrid smelling liquid. If he wasn’t so frozen in fear, he’d gag on the smell.

He walks backwards until his back touches the wall and tries to plaster himself to it. Her dirty, bitten off nails dig into the carpet as she crawls and she keeps coming forward, too close, too close, no way out. He whimpers and the corpse _giggles_. He is praying for the wall to swallow him, to take him away from her, when the paint starts peeling off the walls in crumbs and bits. Suddenly there is wetness on the dry wall behind him and he pushes himself away from it with a soundless cry.

Murky water starts leaking from the water like a pipe burst somewhere and it smells like rotten flesh. The corpse continues to crawl towards him. One of her ears melts off her face and falls to the ground with a disgusting _squelch_. He tries to run – anywhere, everywhere – but the walls are closing in on him, the room getting smaller and smaller. He has nowhere to run, nowhere to hide and the corpse is still smiling at him and he tastes blood and ashes…

He tries to scream, to call for help but his throat doesn’t work. No muscle in his body works. All he can do is stare wide-eyed at the corpse. He doesn’t notice the sweat, the piss between his legs, doesn’t feel his heart rate spiking, doesn’t taste the tears on his face. He sees the light start flickering, leaving the room in absolute, heart-stopping darkness for a few moments. The corpse gets closer each time, its expression turning more sinister. “Come to me,” she says, her voice still buttery soft and sweet.

The light flickers one last time and then goes out completely. That’s when he screams.

**Scene 24**

Misha wakes up with a start, a silent scream stuck in his throat and arms flailing around. Panting to catch his breath, he squints into the darkness trying to figure out what woke him up. The house is dark, a little cold but no one is awake as far as Misha can tell. He thinks he had a nightmare, vaguely remembers smoke and fire but it’s like trying to recall a memory from when he was toddler.

The second floor of the cabin is one big room. There are two bunk beds, a poker table and three chairs, two bean bags, a TV and a mini kitchenette with a coffee maker in the large space. Mr. Jensen and Mr. Jared had basically handed over the second floor to him, only ever coming up to fetch him or to use the terrace. Misha has always had the option of sleeping on the comfortable bunk beds but he prefers to sleep on the floor in his sleeping bag.

Today Misha is sharing his space with Mr. Eric Kripke, the writer Mr. Jensen had asked to come over. Misha was surprised by his visit. Mr. Jensen and Mr. Jared never invite guests to their cabin and certainly don’t ask them to stay. Mr. Eric however seems to be here for the long haul, or at least for as long as Mr. Jensen and Mr. Jared are here. Honestly Misha shouldn’t have been too surprised by his arrival after Miss Genevieve. If a virtual stranger could stay in the cabin, why not a potential colleague? The rules around these parts were bending and Misha didn’t like that.

The second floor is dark, only a faint glow from a lamp downstairs making things visible. Mr. Eric had opted to not turn on his bed lamp when he had retired to bed. It wasn’t dark outside when he had gone to sleep so Misha thinks that is understandable. What is confusing, however, is Mr. Eric’s apparent narcolepsy. It’s a little after midnight according to Misha’s internal clock and that means Mr. Eric has been asleep for nearly 7 hours now and he doesn’t show signs of waking up anytime soon.

Misha sighs wearily and rubs a hand across his face. He never has nightmares; he’s too much at peace with the world for that to happen. The atmosphere in the house has been getting to him lately though, and Misha can feel his carefully centered life force shifting out of balance. He doesn’t know what it is but, everyone in the cabin has started tiptoeing around each other, even Mr. Jared and Mr. Jensen. Even his bees and earthworms are acting strange. It’s like everyone is waiting for a bomb to go off and Misha can practically hear the clock ticking.

Tick tock. Tick tock

Wait… He can actually hear a clock ticking.

Misha frowns and listens hard. There’s no mistaking it now, it is a clock ticking. But, that is impossible, right? There is no ticking clock in the cabin, the only one they have being a digital one over the mantelpiece. Misha’s doubts don’t keep the clock from ticking – not that he thought it would, as much as he wants to be, he’s not God – and the sound continues in a lulling and hypnotizing rhythm.

The sound might have drawn him back to sleep but, just as his eyelids start becoming heavy he hears another sound – the unmistakable _whir_ of the washing machine working. That wakes Misha right up again because _who could be doing laundry at this time of the night_? Normally Misha might have gone straight back to sleep, chalking it up to the craziness the people living in the house have been up to, but something about that sound makes his hackles rise and pulls him to his feet to investigate.

Misha is on edge the moment he steps foot on the topmost stair. He is usually so in tune with the world around him that he can even sense the distress of the hawk that visits him every now and then. Those very same instincts told him that Miss Genevieve spelt trouble the moment he saw her and they are now telling him that there is something _cosmically wrong_ in the house. There’s a storm raging outside, just like he had predicted, but Misha knows that there’s a bigger hurricane just about to make landfall over the cabin.

The sound of the washing machine whirring gets louder as Misha makes his way silently down the stairs. When he reaches the last one he takes a moment to take in his surroundings. The first floor is just as dark as the upper one with only a lamp in the living room illuminating the space. Misha can see that Mr. Jensen and Mr. Jared’s bedroom doors are closed – _they are sleeping in different rooms again. Idiots_ – but, he can’t see Miss Genevieve’s from his vantage point. Everything is quiet and still. Misha imagines the two men and the woman in their individual rooms, breathing deeply and evenly in their sleep.

_Who is using the washing machine?_

The tiny laundry room with a single washer and a dryer is nestled neatly under the stairs. Usually Misha is the only one who uses this room; Mr. Jensen and Mr. Jared prefer to laze around on their rare vacations instead of doing household chores. And Misha doesn’t mind that. Like the upper floor and the vegetable patch behind the house, Misha considers the laundry room to be his space. The room reflects his personality – stripped down of all embellishments, only the basic essentials left, organized in a clutter-free manner.

Watching his beloved front-load washing machine running without any clothes in it, wasting washing power, electricity and _water_ , Misha feels a white hot rage spark in his gut. Not only did someone encroach on his personal space without any purpose but, they also decided that it was okay to _waste_ _water_. No wonder Misha was having nightmares.

Taking deep breaths to calm himself, Misha turns the washing machine off. He feels like his neighbor’s dog, Harley. Harley was almost always a good boy but he had a mean temper on him. Too many times he had accidentally bitten the paperboy’s head off when the paper landed on his head rather than the floor. Misha had been coaching him to control his temper but Harley wasn’t making much progress. Now Misha knows how hard stamping down on your anger can be.

He manages to do it somehow and by the time the water has drained from the washing machine, Misha is calm and collected. That is until he turns around and spots Miss Genevieve standing in the doorway.

Misha jumps at the sight of her and takes an instinctive step backwards. Not many people can get the drop on Misha and he is instantly alarmed that Miss Genevieve was able to do that. The lady is standing in the shadows, the faint glow from the lamp outside outlining her silhouette. Misha can’t see her face but he can make out the long white nightdress. Her hair is wild and unkempt. She just stands there, staring at him and it brings back a faint memory from the recesses of his mind. He swears he can smell smoke.

A chill crawls up Misha’s spine at the sight of her.

“Miss Genevieve,” he says, sounding a lot braver than he feels, “Was it you who turned the washing machine on?”

He doesn’t get a response. Misha takes that for a yes. “Is the silence of the forest scaring you, ma’am?” he asks because it’s his job to be polite and to take care of the people in the house. “Don’t worry, ma’am. This part of the forest is very safe and I know these woods like the back of my hand. You will be safe here.”

Miss Genevieve doesn’t break her silence and stares silently at him, cocking her head to the side. Misha feels his gut churning in anticipation. The way Miss Genevieve continues to stare at him is unnerving. He doesn’t like the lady very much. From the moment he first saw her he could only get a sense of _wrong_ from her and that wrongness has magnified tenfold now. Standing in front of her Misha feels like a cornered animal.

“I’ll go back to bed, ma’am,” he says. Miss Genevieve doesn’t make a move to step aside. Misha’s instinct is telling him to get away from her as soon as possible and he follows his instinct, sidestepping Miss Genevieve and almost running up the stairs, a clock ticking away in the back of his mind.

He never notices the axe she is holding between the folds of her nightgown.

**Scene 25**

Jensen wakes up to the sound of thunder rolling. The power is out and the room is filled with darkness. Lightning flashes illuminate the walls for brief seconds before leaving Jensen in darkness again. He can hear the pitter patter of rain drops hitting the shingled roof, the rattle of the closed windows in their frames.

The temperature of the room seems to have dropped several degrees while Jensen was asleep and now he feels his teeth clatter. There’s a low ache in his calves and arms from the cold and Jensen has no choice but to get up and rub some heat into them. He must have thrown off the comforter in his sleep because it’s now lying on the floor. Jensen pulls the comforter back on and wraps it around himself.

His mobile on the nightstand tells him that it’s 2:30 in the morning. Jensen blows out a breath and watches it fog as he mourns the loss of his sleep. It was a miracle that he was able to sleep at all but, two days of sleepless nights take their toll on a man. Jensen lies back on the bed, hoping to fall asleep again or at least get warm and comfortable but, no matter how many positions he tries sleep eludes him.

Jensen plops on his back with a frustrated sigh, rubbing his face with his hands. The house is silent despite the storm raging outside and frankly Jensen is getting sick and tired of the silence and the stillness. When he gets back to LA he is going to play Led Zeppelin on his home theater at full volume. _When_. Not _if_. He plans on living for a few more decades.

He doesn’t know what it is that’s making him jittery but, there’s a general sense of wrongness. Like he forgot to lock the door or didn’t turn off the gas before leaving home. Jensen strains his ears to catch any sounds over the wind howling and he hears a muted _tut, tut, tut_. Suddenly sleep is the last thing on his mind.

Jensen has a .45 caliber Colt M1911 series pistol that he brings with him to the cabin. It’s usually just a precaution since he and Jared don’t bring their bodyguards here and it usually stays at the bottom of one of his bags with the safety on. He never thought that he’d need to use it but, he is not afraid to.

Jensen is a very good shot, if the countless hours he spent in the shooting range mean anything but, shooting cardboard cutouts in a controlled environment is a lot easier than doing it in the real life. But, it’s his and Jared’s lives that are at stake here and Jensen will not hesitate to shoot Genevieve if it comes to that.

Gun in his hands, the safety still on, Jensen leaves his room silently. Genevieve’s door is closed and so is Jared’s. The living room and kitchen are empty as far as Jensen can tell but, the main door is open, slamming shut and flying open again in the wind. Jensen swears he had locked the door earlier after his disastrous attempt at proving to Jared that Genevieve is crazy. Now the open doors move weakly to nature’s rhythm, letting dust and leaves accumulate in the foyer.

Jensen’s grip on the gun tightens as he moves towards the door. He puts the door stops on both the doors, halting their movements. Outside it’s drizzling, lightning tearing through the pitch black darkness. The swing is swaying wildly now, tangled up in itself. Jensen can hear the stream running at full force. The wind howls, adding a background track to the thunder booming in the sky. The air hits him like a bucket of ice water to the face with every gush of the wind.

Everything is as it is supposed to be and yet there’s something wrong.

Just as Jensen is about to give up and go back to bed, lightning flashes somewhere closer to the cabin and it’s daylight for a few seconds. In that moment he sees the backpack lying on the steps leading to the front porch, a torch sticking out of it. A very familiar flashlight.

Jensen squats next to the bag and pulls out the torch. He knows it very well. It’s _his_ torch.

_“Wait, I have a torch you can borrow.”_

_“Thanks, man. I’ll send it back to you in fanmail.”_

_“You can keep it. It’s yours.”_

Chad? Chad’s here?

“Jared?” Jensen calls out. He is about to go into the house to get Jared when the sound of branch snapping catches his attention. Jensen raises his gun, holding it steady with both hands as he descends the steps. He has to squint hard to keep the dust from flying into his eyes and the leaves crunch beneath his shoes as he moves into the clearing. All his senses are on high alert, taking in every movement and sound. He tries to make out if anyone is standing in the woods but, the only source of light is the lightning flash and it doesn’t penetrate the thick canopy of the woods.

Jensen stops when his foot hits something soft. He looks down to find a black lump that looks too rounded to be a stone but, something about it ticks him off the wrong way. He takes a step back and gets down on one knee to get a closer look. Taking one sweeping glance of the clearing to make sure that there isn’t any immediate danger, he pokes the thing with his left forefinger. Whatever it is, it’s firm but soft.

Lightning flashes and Jensen falls back on his ass with a scream. Bile crawls up his throat and Jensen dry retches even as he tries to scramble back to his feet to get away from… from…

Among the dried leaves, discarded like a piece of trash, is Chad’s decapitated head. The swollen tongue hangs out of the slack jaw and the heavy eyelids droop to cover the vacant stare. The once handsome features have now been reduced to gray skin and sunken cheeks. There’s dried blood at the base of his throat and dried leaves stick to it.

Jensen can see the fleshy insides of Chad’s throat from where the skin had been ripped unevenly, can count a few vertebrae too.

“Oh God.” Jensen turns to his side and throws up bile and water onto the ground. Swallowing the rest of the horrid tasting vomit, Jensen turns away from the… the… He crawls on all fours before his legs gain the ability to support him and breaks into a run. He trips over the steps, almost face plants into the carpet but none of that registers.

He is banging his fists on Jared’s door, the third time that night, but this time he is holding a gun and there’s a decapitated head in front of their house. Jared has to believe him now. Jensen calls out for Jared, slamming the butt of his gun into the door to get him to wake up. But, Jared doesn’t open. He doesn’t even shout out a reply.

For a split second Jensen wonders if Jared is done with him and if he scoffing in his bed, holding a pillow to his ears as he curses Jensen for ruining his sleep. He wonders if Jared thinks he is crazy or just desperate for attention.

Then he remembers the way Chad’s cold skin felt when he touched it, dried up and shriveled. He remembers the bloody torn muscles of Chad’s throat lying on the ground beside his head.

He wonders if Jared is laying in a ditch somewhere, head separated from his body.

“No,” he says to himself. “No. No.” He has to find Jared. Jared can’t be dead. Jared –

Jensen turns away from Jared’s door, in a hurry to do something, to find Jared and slams into Jared’s chest.

“Jen, what?”

“Oh, fuck! Jared. Where the hell were you?” Jensen yells in a hoarse voice.

Jared takes a step back like he is looking at a rabid dog. “I was upstairs. Getting extra blankets.” He holds up the pile of blankets he is holding in his hand like a sort of peace offering. Jensen pushes them away.

“She’s started Jared. She’s started killing people,” he says urgently. It hurts to speak and his voice comes out rough as sandpaper but, he can’t stop. “She killed Chad.”

Jared is watching him with wide eyes. “Chad? But, Chad got off on the highway.”

“Yeah, but Genevieve went after him, remember?”

_“Damn it. Chad forgot his phone,” Genevieve says holding up Chad’s Blackberry. “I’ll taket it back to him.”_

_“It’s dark,” Jared says. “I could go.”_

_“It’s all right. He can’t have gone far.”_

_It takes 15 minutes for her to return._

“She must have killed him in the dark and left the body in the woods,” Jensen whispers, his words stumbling over one another in their haste to get out. “She cut off his head and left it outside.”

“Jen, you’re not making any sense.” Jared holds onto Jensen’s arms to stop their frantic flailing. “How can Genevieve do that? She wasn’t gone for more than 10 minutes.”

“I don’t know. All right? I don’t know. But, she killed Chad’s friends that night and she somehow murdered Chad too.”

Jared shakes his head. “Jensen, calm down first. Then we will talk.”

“No! I am not going calm down because there’s a decapitated head in my front yard. Will you believe me if I show it to you? Come on.”

Jensen doesn’t wait for Jared’s response and drags him out of the house by his arm. Jared resists briefly before following Jensen into the clearing.

“Look, its right here,” Jensen says, waving the gun at the ground.

Lightning flashes. Thunder rolls. The dried leaves on the ground fly around in circles right where Chad’s head was. The ground is free of decapitated heads and gory insides.

“Where is it?” Jared asks. His tone tells Jensen that Jared had fully expected something like this.

“It was right here,” Jensen whispers mostly to himself.

“Jensen, there’s nothing here,” Jared says as Jensen continues to look at the ground around them, searching for what he saw not moments earlier.

“It was –I swear, Jared. It-” Jensen puts the back of his hand to his head, barely resisting the urge to scream in frustration. The fingers holding the gun twitch and he wants to shoot something – preferably Genevieve’s face.

Jensen starts when an idea strikes him. “Okay. Okay. Let me prove it to you,” he says turning to Jared. “Remember that torch we gave Chad right when he got off, huh? It’s right there on the steps along with Chad’s backpack. Would you believe me when you see it?”

Jared’s face says that he doesn’t believe already but, he sighs and makes a sweeping motion with his hands. Jensen takes what he gets and runs with it. Jared will believe, _has_ to believe when he sees the backpack. And it’s right there on the…

There’s nothing on the steps but dried leaves and dust.

“I- It. Right here.” Jensen’s breaths start coming faster. He feels a panic attack building in his chest. _What the fuck is happening?_ He sputters, tries to get out coherent sentences to make sense of everything but, he comes up blank.

“Jensen, we are leaving for LA in the morning,” Jared tells him seriously. Lightning flashes across Jared’s face and its set into an unreadable mask. “And when we get there we are going to see a doctor.”

“I’m not crazy Jared. It was right here, the bag,” Jensen says, trying to sound as convincing as possible. “First I saw the bag here and then I heard a sound somewhere in the woods so I went there to see what it was. Then I saw it. It was… It was Chad. His head was right there –”

“Enough!” Jared cuts off harshly. It’s too dark for Jensen to make out Jared’s face but he can hear the anger in his tone. “This has gone too far already Jensen. Go to sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”

“But Jay –” Jensen hates the pleading note his voice has taken but Jared doesn’t budge.

“No, Jensen. I’m not playing along anymore.”

He moves to go back into the house and Jensen knows that it’s over, that no matter what he does Jared won’t believe him on this. He is the boy that cried wolf and now the villagers will stop coming to his aid – even if he gets mauled by the beast.

“Jay, wait!” Jared halts at the front porch and turns around, waiting for Jensen. Jensen moves to him and holds out his gun. “Take this. And keep your door locked.”

Jared is silent but, the brief flashes of lightning show Jensen that he is surprised. “For me,” Jensen says. He is not above begging right now. Jensen can see Jared biting his lip and something flashes in his eyes. It’s gone before Jensen can try to understand what it is but Jared takes the gun with a brief nod. He checks the safety and when he’s satisfied he goes back into his room.

It doesn’t take more than a minute for Jensen to decide what he has to do next. He’s not giving up without a fight and until Genevieve chops his head off, he will try to stop her from killing any more people.

Misha wakes up with a start when Jensen wakes him up. He looks disoriented for a few moments like he is trying to differentiate reality from a dream but, gathers his wits quickly. He doesn’t protest, doesn’t ask any questions – just follows Jensen when he asks him to. The writer is still sleeping, Genevieve’s room is closed – even though Jensen doesn’t think she’s in there – and Jared’s door is locked, just like Jensen had asked him to. Misha and he move about the house as quietly as they can so as to not wake up the other occupants. They gather their coats and get into Jensen’s car, on their way to town.

The tree that Jensen had encountered earlier is still lying fallen on the ground but this time he’s not alone. Between him and Misha, they move the roadblock enough for the SUV to pass through. After that they encounter no hindrance and reach the back road leading to the town easily. Jensen’s first stop is at the single telephone booth in the town, even though he doesn’t expect the phone lines to work during the storm. Sure enough, he doesn’t get a dial tone when he picks the receiver up. Jensen slams the receiver down with enough force to rattle the booth, putting all the feelings of helplessness and frustration into that one movement.

His next stop is at the house of one of Misha’s friends, Ty Olsson. Misha rushes into the house while Jensen waits in the car and comes back with a built, scruffy, rugged looking man. Next they visit Misha’s neighbor, Cliff Kosterman. This guy is a large, bald man with the type of look you only find on prisoners in the movies. He gets in just as quietly as Ty and neither of them asks any questions as Jensen drives them all back to the cabin.

His mind keeps wandering back to Jared all alone in the cabin. Sure, Eric Kripke is there too but the man is sleeping like the dead. Jensen doesn’t know if the man would be of any help should push come to shove. Jensen doesn’t know how much help he can be. He can take a couple of men any day and when Jared is concerned he almost turns feral. But this isn’t a couple bullies or a drunken idiot in a bar he’s talking about.

It’s a serial killer – a psychopath who has murdered several people in cold blood and was smart enough to never leave any clues. Genevieve’s probably unhinged and doesn’t care for her life any more than she cares for her victims, with only the most basic instinct to survive keeping her alive. She’s a blooded killer who’s used to chopping people up. Jensen might not be able to take her on by himself. He only hopes that what he’s doing will be enough to get through the night.

Thunder booms and lightning continues to streak across the skies. The car’s wipers work constantly to wipe the drizzle of the windshield, their motion almost hypnotic.

The cabin is mostly dark except for when lightning strikes. The only illumination is the muted glow of a candle in a glass holder coming from the kitchen. Genevieve is sitting on a stool with her head pillowed over her hands folded on the kitchen island. The candleholder sits close to her, painting her in an eerie light, turning her brunette hair a lighter shade of brown.

Her face is turned away from Jared, facing the closed back door, when he enters the living room. He sees that Jensen’s room is closed and makes his way to the island, pulling out a cigarette as he goes.

“Hey, can’t sleep?” he asks when he sits himself on the kitchen stool.

Genevieve doesn’t answer.

“Can’t sleep?” he repeats.

When he still doesn’t get any response from Genevieve, he shrugs to himself and lights his cigarette over the candle flame – damn any sailors who dare protest. He can’t find his lighter and he will light his cigarettes however well he pleases, thank you.

Taking a deep whiff of the cigarette Jared rolls his shoulder. The stress lines that he sometimes teases Jensen about are now on his forehead too. There are bags under his eyes and his shoulders are slumped. He looks bone-tired. Jared blows out the puff of smoke and stares at it in fascination. He wonders how it is that a stick of rolled tobacco can calm him down so much. When he smokes his mind feels lighter, his body feels less tense and he can finally breathe again.

The rain continues to drizzle at a lazy pace but, its patter over the roof creates a creepy tune to go with the rolling thunder. The lightning provides the visual effects and the darkness and silence set the ambiance. All that’s missing is an atmospheric melody played on the piano. Jared’s fingers start moving in air even as he thinks, writing chords and composing tunes in his head. He thinks that some haunting female vocals as chorus would be make the melody perfect.

That thought brings him back to Genevieve and he turns towards her, expecting to still find her lying down on the kitchen island.

He never sees the knife coming.

Genevieve is sitting up on her stool with a maniac look in her eyes and when Jared turns towards her, he screams a blood curling sound and slashes his throat in one clean move, spraying blood over the island.

Jared falls to the ground clutching his throat, his face still frozen in shock. He rasps and struggles like a fish out of water, choking on his own blood. Just before the light goes out in his eyes, he says something like “Jensen” but, it’s hard to make out the sound over the gurgling of his blood.

The car severs sharply to the right, driving off road, as Jensen jerks awake with a scream. It’s hard to steer an out of control car into the right direction when your hands are shaking like you’ve just had a cold bath on a winter night but Jensen manages to do it. Sweat pools in the hollow of his throat and collects over his eyebrows as he continues to accelerate.

“Mr. Jensen,” Misha ventures carefully. “Maybe I should drive?”

“No,” Jensen grits out. That is Misha’s indication to shut up and he does, albeit reluctantly.

He knows what Misha is thinking – that Jensen had fallen asleep on the wheel. And that might be true but Jensen knows that it isn’t. His eyes never closed.

Jensen doesn’t know when he started having nightmares when awake but he does know that if he doesn’t get to Jared soon, his worst nightmares will come to life. So, he holds the steering wheel tight in his hands and presses his foot on the accelerator, eyes straight on the road.

The doors to the cabin are thrown open and they slam into the walls with a bang. Jared startles and turns around to stare at Jensen from where he is sitting at the kitchen island. He has a cigarette between his lips, there’s a candle on the kitchen island placed in a glass holder and Genevieve is lying on the counter, her face turned away.

Jensen knows that he isn’t a moment too soon.

Jared rises from the counter and walks into the living room, stubbing his cigarette on an ashtray on the coffee table. “Is there a problem? Who are these men, Jensen?” he asks eyeing the men behind him suspiciously.

Jensen knows how he must look to Jared – drenched in sweat, looking like he’s seeing a ghost, flanked by two mean looking men – but, he can’t help it. Jared is here and he’s alive and Jensen got here in time.

Genevieve raises her head from the kitchen island, her hair in a disarray but eyes wide and alert, and regards Jensen like she is looking at bug she is about to squash under her heel. There’s a slight smirk on her face, a smug look that Jensen wants to put his fist into.

“These are our bodyguards for when we visit the cabin,” Jensen tells Jared calmly. His words aren’t meant for Genevieve, however and she seems to be paying interest. “They are going to live with us every time we visit.”

Jared looks scandalized like Jensen just brought strippers into a church. “What the hell, Jensen?” He turns briefly to the men behind Jensen and says, “No offense guys,” before turning to Jensen again. “This was supposed to be our space. It’s bad enough that you keep Misha around all the time and now these guys too? We’re not going to have any privacy in our own home.”

Jensen knows that Jared is either tired enough to drop or pissed enough to punch holes into walls when he doesn’t act like a perfect Texan gentleman. “Don’t worry. They won’t bother you.” Jared looks ready to argue until he is blue in the face so Jensen stops him before he starts. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow, Jare. These men are staying here tonight.”

Jared’s expression clears and all his anger and irritation evaporates. He looks at Jensen like he is trying to read him and whatever he finds must be satisfying enough because he gives a brief nod. His mouth moves like he is about to say something but he thinks better of it and retreats into his bedroom wordlessly.

“Misha, show Olsson and Kosterman where they’ll be staying.”

If Misha, Olsson or Kosterman were insulted by Jared’s words, they don’t show it as they silently make their way upstairs. Olsson and Kosterman stare at Genevieve with hard eyes as they size her up and calculate the threat that they would pose. They know what they are here for and it has everything to do with a certain psychopath.

Genevieve stares back at them, not even slightly intimidated by the large men. She turns to Jensen with a smirk and nods slowly, almost as if she were saying, “Well played.” But, then she smiles a feral grin and goes into her bedroom. Jensen knows that means, “I like a challenge.”

After loitering around in the living room with nothing to but stew in his thoughts and fears, Jensen heads out onto the porch and lights himself a cigarette. He can’t stay in the house any longer – it’s too dark, too silent and Jensen is too one edge. Every second feels like an eternity as it ticks by and Jensen’s heartbeat increases steadily. He is anxious, expecting the shoe to drop any second, feels like a convict awaiting his imminent death.

He almost wishes that Genevieve would go ballistic on them already so he can get it over and done with.

He is sucking the smoke into his lungs too rapidly and it burns. This is third cigarette of the day and he knows that he should stop before he makes himself sick but he just can’t. He’ll go crazy if he stops. Shifting nervously on his feet, Jensen stares out into the clearing.

This used to be his happy place. Now it feels like living in a nightmare.

A small thunking sound catches his attention and Jensen stands up straighter. The sound came from somewhere along the side of the house, his and Jared’s side, and Jensen walks along the porch that runs around the house to see what it was.

Eric Kripke is standing at the edge of the screened porch, leaning against a wooden post and looking out into the dark backyard of the cabin. Jensen is surprised to find the writer up and about but he is glad for the company. When he gets closer to Kripke, he sees that the man is smoking a cigarette of his own. He goes to stand beside Kripke, hands on the railing. Kripke doesn’t acknowledge his presence, just continues to stare into distance.

“The storm’s letting up,” Jensen says, indicating the waning rain.

“Mhmm…” Kripke says with a little nod.

“We are leaving first thing in the morning. Pack your bags.”

“Never unpacked them,” Kripke says with a shrug. His voice still has that bubbly, childish tilt to it but, it’s dimmer somehow.

“You’ve rested well I’m guessing?” Jensen asks casually.

He sees Kripke’s head bob once when lightning flashes.

Jensen sighs, gives up pretending to care about Kripke. He asks the question that has been bothering him all night. “I don’t get it. Even after everything Sam and Dean have been through, why doesn’t he believe Dean when he says that there’s something wrong with Ruby?”

“Love can make people blind.”

Jensen scoffs. “Sam doesn’t love Ruby. He was only using her to make Dean jealous.”

He bites his tongue as soon as the words leave his lips because to Eric, Sam and Dean are nothing more than characters. Characters who are brothers. A brother doesn’t try to make his brother jealous of a potential girlfriend.

To his surprise Kripke doesn’t comment on that. Instead he says, “I wasn’t talking about Sam’s love for Ruby.”

Jensen stares at Kripke’s silhouette. “You mean, Sam’s love for Dean is making him put up a fight? That doesn’t even make sense.”

“It makes sense to Sam.”

That shuts Jensen right up. What if Jared was thinking that he was helping Jensen by not listening to him? It makes sense that if Jared thought Jensen was crazy, which he had more than one reason to think, he would think that by not playing along with Jensen’s ‘delusions’ he is helping Jensen.

Jensen wants to be angry at Jared, wants to go up to his friend and shake him till he sees sense. Then again, even if Jared had thought Jensen was crazy, he only talked about getting Jensen help. He never once mentioned leaving Jensen.

Jensen knew that Jared would stick around with him through heaven or high tide but seeing the proof of it makes him smile. It’s the first real smile he’s had since the moment he saw Genevieve that morning.

The thought of Genevieve brings him back to the reality that they are living under the same roof as a serial killer.

“What happens next?” he asks Kripke.

Kripke takes a deep breath like he is garnering the courage to say the words.

“The climax,” he says.

 


	5. ACT V

**Scene 26**

The storm is letting up but with their backup generator waterlogged the power is still out.

Jared watches from the shadows of the kitchen as Genevieve leaves the cabin. Through the front door he can see her cross the bridge over the stream and into the forest.

From the corner of his eye he sees the two men Jensen brought. They speak in hushed tones, their eyes fixed on Genevieve. When she disappears into the forest, they move. The bald guy turns around before leaving. “Sir, do not leave the house. It’d be better if you lock your room and stay inside.”

Jared nods at him and he leaves, satisfied. He watches the men follow the same path Genevieve took, walking carefully. They didn’t make a sound as they moved, a huge feet considering the size of the men. Jared watches them until they too, disappear into the woods.

Then he moves.

He tucks the gun Jensen gave him into jeans and slips into Genevieve’s room. The room looks the same as it always did. The space never saw any use since Jared and Jensen never invited anyone to the cabin. It was always pristine, unlived and sterile. Even though he knew it would be empty, Misha always insisted on making up the bed and using fresh sheets every time they came to the cabin.

Now that Genevieve’s been living there for a whole day, it still looks untouched and sterile. The bed looked freshly made; all corners neatly tucked it and smoothed out to borderline obsessive perfection.

The only evidence of Genevieve living there was the bag on the dresser and Jaredreaches it in two long strides. There’s a little sense of guilt, somewhere back in his mind, at the idea of violating someone’s privacy. It’s overshadowed by Jared’s doubts about Genevieve.

The first time Jensen told him that Genevieve was a serial killer because a character in a script was, Jared was scared – scared for Jensen. He hadn’t read the script himself but he was sure that Jensen was just projecting, over generalizing things and seeing connections where there were none.

It started getting creepy when Jensen predicted Chad’s arrival.

Even then Jared wasn’t convinced. He was sure it was all just freaky coincidence. There was no way a script, written a couple of years ago, was predicting his future. It was simple conformational bias.

He temporarily forgot about the book yesterday when Jensen started acting violent. Then things got better, Jensen got better, they were together and he was happy.

Until Jensen told him that they had to leave because Genevieve was about to kill them all.

Everything went downhill from there.

Jared was sure Jensen was imagining things but Jensen was so sure that he wasn’t. Every time. He was sure Genevieve was a serial killer, that she was crazy, he was sure she had killed Chad’s friends, then Chad himself. All based on a story and nothing else. Jared was torn between getting Jensen help and not making him feel like Jared thought he was crazy. But there seemed like there was no other explanation. This wasn’t Mystery Files and a movie script wasn’t paralleling their lives.

It wasn’t that Jared didn’t trust Jensen, he wasn’t sure if he could trust Jensen’s mind.

But Jensen wasn’t crazy, was he? Jared had known Jensen his whole life and he’d never seen him act like this. He’d never seen Jensen so shaken and scared. There must be some truth to it. The situation, taking the book out of the equation, wasn’t totally implausible… Or Jared, like Jensen, was grasping at straws right now and writing the facts around the story instead of the other way around.

There was only one way to find out.

Jared opens Genevieve’s bag and roots through her clothes. Most of them are jeans, t-shirts and women’s underwear. Underneath all of them, however, Jared finds a white nightgown. He remembers Jensen telling him about Genevieve wearing a white dress, standing on a swing during the storm.

But this was just a nightgown.

Women wear nightgowns.

He doesn’t know what to think anymore.

Maybe they are all going crazy? Maybe it’s a poisonous gas or some shit triggered by the off-season storm, turning their brains into mush and making them see things that weren’t there? Jared heard of things like that happening.

It was a farfetched theory but the nightmares Jared’s been having, the constant anger thrumming under the surface, the fights he and Jensen have been getting into… it couldn’t be natural, could it?

He laughs, a small hysterical sound, when he realizes that it was either a mysterious poison corrupting their minds or a movie script coming to life and a serial killer in their midst. Neither option sounded good.

He finds what he was looking for when he goes through Genevieve’s wallet, not the solid proof he wanted, but enough to give weight to Jensen’s theories. Enough for Jared to believe him.

He finds a driver’s license and college id for Genevieve Cortese but he knows that they are about as real as Genevieve’s words. Serial killer or not it is clear now that Genevieve is a pathological liar. If she’d lied about who she is then god knows what else she’s lied about.

He should get Jensen, they should probably call the police. No, they needed to leave first, get to safety. Get Misha and Kripke too. Where are they again?

He stuffs Genevieve’s things back into her bag, slams his foot into the bed in his haste to leave. Genevieve will realize that someone’s been in her room when she sees her bag. They need to be as far away from here as possible before that happens.

His plan flies out of the window when he sees Genevieve returning just as he’s about to leave the room. She is alone.

 _Shit!_ _Where are those two guys that went after her?_

Seeing no other option Jared closes the door and sits himself on Genevieve’s bed, putting all his acting chops to use in trying to look calm. He can’t leave the room without Genevieve noticing, can’t get Jensen without her becoming suspicious. The only option he has is confrontation.

He puts all his hopes in the element of surprise, feeling himself one last time to make sure he’s armed.

No matter what happens tonight he isn’t letting Genevieve hurt Jensen.

**Scene 27**

Genevieve enters the cabin as silently as she had left. The storm has quieted with only the occasional lightning and gusts of wind left. The house is just as she had left it – silent and dark. Jensen Ackles is still on the porch outside with Eric Kripke and the blue-eyed guy is upstairs. Jared’s bedroom door is still closed and Genevieve considers going to him. She decides against it because for this to work, Jared has to come to her.

Letting herself into her designated bedroom, Genevieve lights a candle and when she turns around, she jumps back in shock.

Sprawling on her bed, in just a t-shirt and pair of lose fitting jeans, looking like sin personified, is Jared Padalecki. He is leaning back on the bed, hands folded behind his head and long legs crossed in front of him. He looks at Genevieve with a feigned nonchalance but, Genevieve can hear the questions burning on the tip of his tongue. She waits and lets them come out.

“What were you doing out at this time of the night?” His voice is carefully neutral, not giving anything away.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she says in a small voice.

He sits up in the bed and swings his legs down. “There’s plenty of space around the house and in the clearing for you to clear your head. You didn’t have to go into the woods.”

Genevieve knows her game is up.

She bites her lip, looking uncomfortable, eyes darting everywhere but towards Jared. She stalls like she is trying to figure a way out of the situation and then gives up with a weary sigh. A sob tears out of her throat. “Oh God, Jared,” she says and covers her face with her hands, sobbing into her palms. She hears Jared stand and move towards her. He puts a hand on her shoulder – not comforting or intimate but just a courtesy he is showing to a crying lady.

“It’s Jensen. I can’t be around him,” she says, prying her hands away from her face. She can clearly picture her tear-streaked face, bitten red lips and snotty nose, brows furrowed in misery. She makes a pathetic picture. “He hates me.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Jared says. Even he doesn’t believe that.

“He does. Why else would he send men after me?”

Jared frowns. “Those men are here for our protection. They aren’t after you.”

“Oh, they are,” Genevieve says, around a humorless laugh.

“What are you talking about?”

“Not here. We can’t talk here, Jared. Jensen can come back any moment and if he sees me with you, he’ll kill me.”

“No, he won’t,” Jared says but, Genevieve continues speaking over him, her voice turning hysterical.

“He is going to kill me Jared. You don’t know the way he looks at me – like he hates me just for existing. I can’t, Jared. Not here.”

“All right, all right, calm down,” Jared says, patting her arm. “Where do you wanna go? In case you haven’t noticed we’re in the middle of a forest.”

“There’s another smaller clearing, not far from here, up the stream,” Genevieve says.

Jared raises an eyebrow at that but doesn’t comment. He simply nods and motions towards the door, asking Genevieve to lead the way. Genevieve gladly does. The digital clock over the mantle reads 3:47 as they pass. No one notices them leave.

Genevieve didn’t want it to come to this. She had thought that everything would go according to plan and she will never have to resort to _this_ but, the gun tucked into the back of Jared’s jeans tells her that it’s high time she take action instead of playing hide and seek. Genevieve covertly pats her pant pockets and grins to herself when she feels the hunting knife she finds there.

Jared is none the wiser of everything going through Genevieve’s mind. He follows her quietly but the tense line of his shoulders and the distance he maintains between them tells her that he is on his guard.

“How far?” he asks, after a little while. By now they are out of the cabin’s view, far enough that no screams will be heard. She wants to go a little farther, just in case.

“Not too far.”

The clearing that they enter is smaller, more a little patch of land that the trees have not managed to encroach on yet. The ground here is grassy, uneven and filled with shrubs unlike the clearing in which cabin lies. The clouds have parted and the moon peaks out shyly through the opening in the canopy. The light here isn’t enough to be able to see clearly, just enough to make out what’s going on. It’s more than enough for Genevieve.

“All right, we’re here,” Jared says when she stops in the clearing. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Jensen is crazy,” Genevieve says. Her voice is soft enough to make it look like she’s on the verge of tears and firm enough to say that she is not bullshitting. “I don’t know what I ever did to him but he is out to kill me.”

Jared looks absolutely livid. “I swear to God, Genevieve, if you ever call Jensen crazy again, I’ll make you regret it.”

Genevieve pretends to blanch at the harsh tone but, honestly? She was expecting this. It’s just further proof that what she is doing now is necessary. That doesn’t mean she’ll give up her act so easily.

“He put men after me. Those two ex-convicts aren’t here for your security Jared. They are here to keep an eye on me.” Her voice rises with each word until she is close to yelling. “They’ve been watching my every move since the moment they arrived. And they keep looking at me like… like –I don’t know but, it makes my skin crawl.”

Jared remains silent and continues to keep his distance. Genevieve pulls out the big guns. “After what happened with that trucker the other day… I-I can’t trust people anymore, Jared. Do you get that? And now I have men watching me like they want to eat me alive. I feel like I’m back in the truck again… tied up and screaming into my gag for help while a guy uses my body for his perverted needs.”

She launches herself at Jared and buries her face in his chest, snaking her arms around him. “I-I couldn’t. I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to go out. But those men followed me out too. I lost their tail but they’ll come back for me.”

Jared pats her back a few times before gently untangling himself from her. “I’m sure they didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Even you don’t believe that,” Genevieve spits. “I know Jensen’s your best friend, Jared but c’mon. Don’t tell me you haven’t seen how crazy he’s been acting. He thinks I’m a serial killer that I’m out to kill you all. Can you believe that? He’s delusional.”

Jared takes an angry step forwards. “I told you, Gen-”

“I’m sorry but I have no choice,” she sobs, tears spilling out of her eyes. “After all that’s happened. I can’t Jared. And you’re the only one who can help me. Please, I’m begging you. Save me from him. Please.”

Jared’s face still remains a hard mask. Genevieve starts sobbing and hiccupping uncontrollably. Her voice shakes as she speaks. “Jared, pl-please. He-he’s crazy and he’s g-going to kill me. I-I can’t do this without you. I need your help. I-I-”

Long seconds pass as Genevieve quietly whimpers. Nothing happens.

Finally she sighs, dropping the act, smoothing out her features. She wipes carelessly at her crocodile tears. “Yeah. Knew that wouldn’t work.”

Jared looks surprised and confused at the turn of events. He takes a step back and gets into a defensive stance. Genevieve smiles at him, all sugary sweet. “God, crying is so stressful,” she moans, walking around Jared. He starts to move too, always making sure to keep her in his direct line of sight. They circle each other like two wolves gearing up for a fight.

“What gave me away?” she asks.

“I went through your stuff. Found your fake id and license,” Jared tells her.

“Hmm… I thought they were pretty convincing.” Genevieve honestly considers the matter. She doesn’t usually need the ids but they come in handy sometimes. They add a touch of authenticity to her lies.

“They were,” Jared admits. “Anyone wouldn’t have found the difference but I am an actor. I live a fake life. I can spot a fake id from miles away.” Jared tries to sound confident and almost succeeds but Genevieve can see the fear in his eyes.

“Yeah… I should have thought about that, but I honestly didn’t think it would come to this.”

“What do you mean?” Jared snarls.

Genevieve smirks. “You were supposed to come to me. You were supposed to come running to me when your crazy friend became too much to handle.”

Jared gasps. “You did all that. Jensen wasn’t lying, was he? You are the killer.”

Genevieve laughs loudly. “No. As much as I admire the lady, I’m not the Highway Killer. And Jensen – well, he’s been crazy from the get go. I didn’t have to do much. Just a creepy smirk here and a cold stare there. I acted all sweet and caring when I was around you but around Jensen I was a whole different person.

“And before you ask, yeah, Jensen wasn’t lying when he told you that I was standing on the swing in the middle of a storm. It was really easy to scare him when he already looks like he’s seeing ghosts everywhere. And by the time he got you, I got into my room through the bedroom window and put on a t-shirt over my nightgown. Poor Jenny. You should have seen his face when you told him that you didn’t believe him.”

There are tears in Jared’s eyes now and Genevieve knows that the guilt is drowning Jared, filling his lungs and making it harder for him to breathe. And yet he snarls at her. “You bitch. You lying bitch!”

“Jeez, Jared. Do you suck Jensen’s cock with that mouth?” Genevieve sneers.

“What do you want from us? Why are you doing this?” Jared spreads his hands out as he yells.

“I want _you_. I’ve always wanted you. I love you Jared.” Genevieve’s voice softens at her confession. “I had this whole dream in my mind, you know. We’d meet quite accidentally when my car breaks down and you give me a ride. Sparks were going to fly between us. You were going to fall in love with me and we’d have a happily ever after. Had that happened, I wouldn’t have to do any of this. But no, you had to go and play hard to get.

“Very soon after getting into the car with the two of you, I realized that you were in love with Jensen and that Jensen returned your puppy love. You two were almost disgusting to watch, making goo-goo eyes at the each other. That kinda ruined all my plans. I was wondering what to do, how to get you to fall for me. Then I heard Jensen throwing up the night we arrived. I knew. I knew that he was off his rocker, that there was something with him. In his head. He believes that a script is coming to life.” Genevieve scoffs at that.

“I’ll admit I had some part to play in it but, come on. That guy is cuckoo. I thought that if I got you to see that, if I broke your relationship beyond recovery, you’d come to me. That was why I told you to push Jensen until he breaks. And you did. You did it so beautifully. Jensen lost his shit and almost beat you to death. I thought that I had won, but no. You had to go and fuck the guy that tried to beat you up.” She tsks like a mother scolding her child for stealing candy. “You are a sick puppy, Jared.”

“Shut up!” Jared snarls. His nostrils are flaring and his face is twisted into a mask of fury. His fists are clenched by his side, ready to throw a deadly punch if need be.

“I haven’t finished yet,” Genevieve says sweetly. “Jensen looked so smug that next morning. Until he saw me, of course. He has always looked at me like I’m a black-eyed demon or something. What’s up with that, anyway? And then that bald guy came along and I don’t know what it is that they talked about but, Jensen was scared out of his wits. I used that to my advantage, I improvised. And you –you were supposed to come running to me when Jensen’s crazy shit got too much for you. You were supposed to love me!”

Jared looks at her with disgust clear in his eyes. “I would never, ever do that.”

Genevieve laughs again but this time it’s cruel and cold, grating to hear. “Yeah, I figured that out. You were never going to leave Jensen. You’d stick with him even if he ended up in a padded cell. And that brings us to now.”

Jared narrows his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“If I can’t have you, no one can.” Genevieve’s voices echoes in the silence that follows and it takes a second longer for it to click in Jared’s mind. He reaches behind himself, hands groping behind his t-shirt for the gun that he had tucked into his jeans. His eyes widen and his face drains of all color when he finds nothing.

“Looking for this?” Genevieve pulls the Colt from the back of her jeans and holds it up mockingly.

“How-” Jared stutters. Now, Genevieve can clearly hear the fear in his voice and Jared doesn’t try to mask it. The one protection he was counting on is gone.

“I have quick fingers,” Genevieve says. “Just need to hug you for a couple of seconds to empty your pockets.”

She sees the moment the realizations hits Jared. “You fucking bitch!” Jared growls.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ve been over that but, I mean, come on, Jared! Even you have to admit. I’m –I’m awesome! I fooled you, I fooled Jensen, I fooled everybody!”

“You are not going to get away with this,” Jared tells her. “Jensen’s going to kill you.”

Like Genevieve didn’t know that. “He won’t get a chance. I’ll kill myself.”

That catches Jared completely off guard and he frowns in confusion. Genevieve’s expression softens and she gives Jared a sad smile. “I love you, Jared. I can’t live without you.”

Jared’s eyes widen when he realizes the meaning behind Genevieve’s words and he takes a cautious step backwards. Genevieve raises the gun and levels it to Jared’s chest. She flicks the safety off.

“And you can’t live if you aren’t mine.”

**Scene 28**

Everyone makes mistakes in their lifetime. Most of the time, they are redeemable. Some are not. Eric Kripke has made a lot of mistakes in his lifetime and not all of them are redeemable.

The funny thing is that you never know how horrible a mistake is until you’ve already committed it and then there’s no going back. All that’s left is facing the consequences of the things you’ve done. Eric Kripke hasn’t done that either. He has always run from his mistakes and he keeps running.

Lying to Jensen Ackles about being the writer of the script was a mistake. He doesn’t yet know if it’s redeemable.

A slight breeze rustles the fallen leaves in the backyard. The storm has destroyed the vegetable patch that was growing there. Eric thinks of asking Jensen if he feels bad about that but Jensen looks like he wouldn’t give two shits if the house burnt to the ground.

 _Bad analogy_ , he thinks, shaking his head.

He and Jensen have been standing on the screened porch for almost 30 minutes now. Jensen hasn’t spoken anything beyond the first few words and didn’t seem to expect Eric to speak either. That was just fine by him. They stand in silence, smoking one cigarette after another, each lost in their own thoughts.

Jensen suddenly looks at his watch. “It’s past 4,” he says. His voice is rough from lack of use and the smoke. “We should go back in, catch some rest before we head out.”

Eric can see that rest is the last thing on Jensen’s mind but he plays along, nodding and following the director back into the house. He is very eager to get out of the house himself. Something about being here doesn’t quite sit right with him, like sitting on a volcano about to erupt. He was extremely glad when Jensen told him that they’d be heading out.

As he enters the house, Eric catches his reflection on a window pane when a sudden flash of lightning illuminates the world. His eyes are red and puffy from lack of sleep – which is ironic because he has done nothing but sleep since he got here. There are bags under his eyes and he looks like the few hours he’s spent in this cabin have aged him ten years.

That is the moment he decides to come clean with Jensen. He knows that there will be consequences for trying to fool an award winning director into hiring him for work he didn’t do. But anything would be better than this. The nightmares and the constant fear have only worsened since he decided to pose as the writer of that horror movie script.

Anything is better than seeing _her_ in his dreams.

Eric Kripke isn’t a believer of the afterlife or of ghosts and demons but he does believe in fate. And fate is coming to bite him in the ass.

Inside the cabin he finds Jensen running around frantically. The man checks every room on the first floor and then sprints up the stairs, taking them two at a time. “Jared?” he hears the man call out. After a few seconds he comes down looking panicked and terrified. His complexion has turned ashen and his breathing is accelerating.

“What’s wrong?” Eric asks.

Jensen jumps like he had forgotten Eric was there. “Jared’s missing. Genevieve’s gone too.” He looks almost hysterical in his worry.

“I’m sure they are around somewhere,” Eric assures him, moving towards the refrigerator to get some water.

“I checked every room. And where the hell are Olsson and Kosterman?” he yells. “They were supposed to look out for Jared.”

“Who?”

Jensen doesn’t answer. Instead he opens the backdoor and screams into the dark, “Misha! Misha, you son of a bitch! Get in here now.”

“Where is everybody?” Jensen yells, when he gets back into the house. He rubs his hands over his face and runs his fingers through his hair, pacing the space like a caged animal. Eric feels like he has to do something to ease the other man’s worry but he has no clue as to what it is that’s bothering him in the first place so he doesn’t try.

 There’s a candle lit on the kitchen island and it gives Eric enough light to notice the dark patch next to the stairs. It seems to be coming from under the door of the small room wedged under the stairs.

“What’s in there?” Eric asks.

“What?” Jensen asks irritably before he understands what Eric is talking about. “Oh, that’s the laundry room,” he says offhandedly.

Eric moves towards the door and steps in the puddle of – whatever it is – that’s pouring out of the laundry room. He thinks it might be water but, it doesn’t look like water or smell like it. He doesn’t want to take any chances, though. He had once ignored the water leaking from a washing machine and paid for it with all that he holds dear. He won’t do that again.

Eric’s hand is on the doorknob, twisting it open when he hears Jensen say, “Don’t go in there. Misha doesn’t like it when-”

Whatever Jensen was saying is cut off when Eric screams a bone chilling scream and runs backwards, slipping in the puddle, to get away from the door. Jensen rushes to his side immediately but when he sees what it is that Eric had seen, he rushes into the laundry room.

“Oh my God! Misha! Misha!” Jensen screams as he kneels beside the corpse. His hands hover over the body, unsure of what to do. He can’t exactly check for a pulse when the throat is slashed from end to end.

Eric looks down at his hands, at the puddle he is sitting in and realizes with a sickening lurch that it is blood. Misha’s blood. It is dark red and coating Eric’s hands, soaking into his jeans. There’s so much blood, _so much blood_ that Eric is sure that there’s not even a pint of it left in the dead man’s body.

Misha is lying on his side on the laundry room floor, his throat slashed open deep enough for Eric to see the bone and fat tissue. His hands are outstretched, reaching towards the door. His vacant blue eyes stare unseeingly into the void. Eric knows that it wasn’t a quick, painless death. Misha must have struggled on the wooden floor, trying to reach out for help as he bled out, unable to call out with his severed vocal chords. The puddle of urine near Misha’s legs and the dried tear tracks on the bridge of his nose are the proof of that.

“Oh God! Misha!” Jensen sobs and it breaks Eric out of the spell he was in.

“It’s her,” Eric says and he knows now that his nightmares are coming true. “She’s going to kill us all.”

Jensen turns to him with murderous eyes. His eyes are red-rimmed and his jaw is set into a hard line. “What do you mean?” he growls.

“It’s Sera,” Eric explains calmly, eyes never leaving Misha’s. “She killed him.”

“Sera? Who’s Sera?” Jensen is shouting now but, Eric doesn’t hear it. He feels a chill crawl up his spine and a gust of cold wind rushes through the open backdoor. He knows it’s her. He knows that it’s her the same way he knows that blood is red and that people bleed to death when you slash their throats. He doesn’t know why he hasn’t admitted this before.

The world is shaking and Eric’s head wobbles dangerously on his head. He realizes after a few moments that Jensen is shaking him. “Eric! Who is Sera?”

“The one who wrote your script,” Eric tells him. He hopes that admitting the truth will appease her.

“What?” Jensen exclaims.

“Sera. Sera Gamble. She’s the one who wrote the script. I had no part in it.”

“But you said –”

“I know what I said but that was a lie. It was all a lie. This is the truth.” Eric is surprised that he hasn’t broken into hysterics already.

“So Genevieve is _not_ a serial killer?” Jensen yells. Eric doesn’t understand what he is saying. Conscious thought is slipping past him. It must be the shock.

“Eric! Focus! Man, come on. Tell me what happens at the end of the script!”

“I don’t know,” Eric manages to say because it looks like this information is really important to Jensen. “I just know that one of the Winchesters dies.”

“Oh God! Jared!” Jensen’s hands aren’t on him anymore. “Eric, I have to find Jared and when I get back, we are leaving. Eric! Can you hear me?”

“Yeah.”

Jensen must have said something after that but Eric doesn’t hear it. Before he knows it, he’s alone in a cabin in the middle of the woods with a dead body, sitting in a pool of blood.

Fate was a cruel mistress.

Julian was having weird dreams before he died. Nightmares, actually. He saw Sera everywhere. He was volatile, often lashed out at Eric too. He used to hallucinate, hear things. Eric was helpless to do anything but sit and watch as his brother wasted away. It got worse and worse and worse until one day, Julian was dead – pinned to the ceiling, burnt and turned to ash.

So he had run. He ran to escape the added guilt of another death on his conscience. He ran so that he didn’t have to think about the implications of Julian dying in a fire. He ran so that he didn’t have to worry about his own growing nightmares. He had somehow ended up in Los Angeles, living at the bottom of a bottle until Welling and Rosenbaum had found him.

He thought that it would be a good thing. A fresh start at a new life. Oh, how wrong he was. Clearly, Sera didn’t like him claiming her hard work as his own.

“I am sorry,” he says. He doesn’t know if he’s apologizing to Sera or Misha or Julian or Jensen but, he needs to apologize.

In the candlelight Misha’s face looks ashen – deathly pale – and the blood crusted around the slash in his throat stands out in stark contrast. If Eric can just imagine the room without Misha’s dead body in it, he’ll see murky water pooling around the washing machine, filled with the grime and dirt from the clothes being washed. He’ll remember that he saw the water leaking and ignored it because he heard his brother and his sister-in-law screaming.

He’ll see fire.

It takes a minute but Eric eventually manages to tear his eyes off Misha’s face and stand up. His mind is blank, trying to push away guilt and gut wrenching fear. He has work to do. He needs to get out of here and… and then what?

The panic catches up with him and Eric starts to hyperventilate. He holds a hand to his chest and tries to breathe through it, tries to call out but the lump in his throat prevents it. He breathes hard in puffs and huffs and suddenly his breath fogs up.

The candle on the kitchen island behind him flickers and dies out, leaving him in the semi-darkness of moonlight.

“No! No. No. Please!” Eric screams.

The blood freezes, veins close up. His muscles burn and his organs inflame. He coughs and sprays blood on the wooden floor. He bleeds from his nose and ears and eyes as the vessels burst. His spine shatters, vertebrae by painful vertebrae, bones misaligning and breaking clean to the marrow.

Eric collapses into a lifeless heap on the floor like puppet with its strings cut out.

**Scene 29**

The sky is still inky black, filled with storm clouds but, the rain has stopped. Jensen feels like there should be thunder rumbling, clouds clashing in blasts of brilliant white light and rain pelting down like it’s the end of the world. That’s how he feels inside. He feels like his world is breaking apart and crashing down on him.

“Jared?” Jensen screams once he is in the clearing even though he knows it will fruitless. The clearing is desolate and there’s not a soul in sight. Jensen doesn’t know where Jared and Genevieve are or even if they’re together. The growing panic in his chest tells him that he won’t like the answers, whatever they are, but he needs to find Jared.

His hands shake as he unlocks his car door. The car’s still here and that means that Jared must have left on foot. He couldn’t have gone far. Jensen can catch up to him. He can.

He refuses to think about the body he left in the cabin and how easily it could have been Jared.

The car purrs as it comes to life. Hands on the steering wheel, foot on the gas pedal ready to gun it down, Jensen almost loses it. He is in the middle of a forest and his best friend is missing with a serial killer on the loose. He doesn’t know where to start looking for Jared or what to do. He sees the sharp curve of road disappearing out of the clearing and Jensen decides that it’s as good as any place to start.

His SUV hugs the curve as he leaves the clearing, headlights blazing. Jensen’s palms are sweaty and slippery as he holds the wheel with all his might. His eyes furiously darting along the tree line as he drives, searching for something, _anything_. That would probably explain why he never saw the approaching vehicle.

Brakes screech and the tires slide dangerously on the wet dirt road as he brings the car to a halt. His head slams into the steering wheel painfully with the force since he hadn’t bothered with the seat belt in his hurry. Stars dancing in his vision, Jensen raises his head to find his vision distorted by the bright lights of the other car’s headlights. Shaking his head clears it enough for him to hear the approaching footfalls and voices.

Even though he should have been expecting it, he startles when a hand lands on his shoulder. “Whoa! Whoa! Easy. Jensen Ackles?” the man says. The guy is a gruff older man with salt and pepper hair and beard. Even in his leather jacket and Guns N’ Roses t-shirt, he has a sense of authority and dignity to him.

Jensen nods slowly, rubbing at his forehead. There’s no blood. That’s good.

“I’m Jeffery Dean Morgan and this is Mark Pellegrino,” the guy says, pointing to someone on his left. He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a badge. Jensen’s vision clears enough for him to read ‘Los Angeles Police’ in the glow of the car lights. “Detectives, LAPD,” Morgan supplies. “You know Tom Welling and Michael Rosenbaum?”

“Yes,” Jensen tells him, more alert now. “I need your help.” His voice comes out as a croak.

Jeffery Morgan nods. “Where’s your friend? Jared Padalecki?”

“He’s missing. I was looking for him,” Jensen says. That’s when he notices the other guy, Mark, standing a foot behind Jeffery. The guy’s got dirty blonde hair and dull grey eyes.

“Missing? What do you mean missing?”

Jensen gets out of the car to face the two men. “I don’t know. He was just-” Jensen breaks off, unsure of what to say. His hands go to clutch at his hair in frustration.

“Where’s Genevieve Cortese?” Mark asks, stepping forward.

“I don’t know. She’s gone too. She is a serial killer – the one that’s been killing all those people on the highways. She killed a friend of mine.”

Jeffery and Mark exchange a look. “I’ll call for back-up,” Mark says and he gets into the car that Jensen almost slammed into. Jensen can now see that it’s a cop car.

“Do you have any idea where they are?” Jeffery asks him and Jensen shakes his head. He can hear Mark’s voice in the background as he radios for back-up. Jensen feels like he is wasting time. He should be looking for Jared.

“All right, listen to me,” Jeffery says, putting a hand on his shoulder. “My partner will get you to safety while I search for your friend, all right? Mike told me there was a writer with you. Where is he?”

Jensen doesn’t hear anything past _you_ and _safety_. “What? No! I’m not going anywhere! I need to find Jared.”

“I will find Mr. Padalecki. It’s dangerous for you to be here,” Jeffery argues in a stern voice.

“I don’t care!” Jensen yells. He wrenches his shoulder from Jeffery’s grip and is already getting back into his car, determined to tear down the entire National Forest, if that’s what it takes to find Jared.

Then he hears it. The gun shot.

A single crack through the silence of the forest. Loud enough to wake the dead. Loud enough to shatter Jensen’s heart to pieces.

He is running towards the sound even before the faint echoes of the gunshot die down. “JARED!” He screams, his voice grating and loud to his ears. He runs, jumping over broken branches and thorny shrubs. Trees whizz past him and he gets nicked and trips more than once in the darkness but, none of that registers. He keeps shouting Jared’s name and keeps running.

Jensen doesn’t know what makes him stop – if it’s the fact that he has no idea where to go or if it’s the voices behind him or if it’s the tears blurring his vision.

“Jared!” he calls out desperately. He’s pretty sure that the gunshot went off somewhere around here but there’s _nothing_ here. Just miles and miles of trees that all look the same and are currently doing jackshit in helping Jensen.

“Jared!” His voice breaks as he screams. His mind keeps repeating the name – _Jared Jared Jared Jared –_ the gunshot ringing in the background.

“Jensen!” The voice is frail and comes out as a whimper but, Jensen hears it.

Lightning flashes and Jensen sees him. Jared is standing beside a tree – no, leaning on it – clutching his stomach and looking like he is about to fall over.

“Jared! Oh God! Jared!”

Jensen sobs in relief the moment he touches Jared, easing him slowly onto the ground. Tears start falling down his cheeks as Jensen holds him and Jared holds him back just as tight, whimpering in pain.

“Jen!” Jared gasps. “Jen!”

“It’s okay. It’s okay. I got ya. I got ya,” Jensen mumbles as he runs his hands over Jared. He finds wetness where Jared is holding onto his abdomen and realizes with a heart-stopping lurch that it’s blood.

“Oh God!” Jensen sobs. Jared holds onto him tighter, his blunt nails digging into Jensen’s shoulder painfully.

“She –She shot me,” Jared says softly. In another flash of lightning, Jensen sees that Jared’s eyes are glazed over with pain but, alert.

“Should’ve listened to you,” Jared mumbles and Jensen shushes him instantly.

“It’s okay. It just means you’ll be getting a major spanking from me, huh?” Jensen laughs wetly, pressing the soaked fabric of Jared’s t-shirt into the wound. Jared hisses through the pain.

“Kinky –son of a bitch,” he gasps.

Jensen laughs hoarsely, looking around him for any signs of Jeffery or Mark. He sees the faint light of a flashlight behind a bunch of a trees and he takes a chance, hoping that it’s the cops and not Genevieve.

“Hey! Over here!” he screams.

Jared tenses in his arms. “Jen! She’s still here!” he hisses.

Jensen doesn’t answer him because he is too busy hearing for the sound of footfalls. The feet approaching them are heavy and certainly a more than a pair. He relaxes marginally but, holds Jared harder to his chest.

“It’s okay. Help is here,” he tells Jared. “We’ll get you all patched up and you’ll be as good as new.” He knows he is rambling but, he’s desperate. He needs Jared to be okay, he needs Jared to live. Because without Jared, Jensen would just die. Without Jared… No, that’s not even an option. Jared has to be okay. He _has_ to be.

“Jensen!” It’s Mark’s voice.

In the light of Mark’s flashlight, Jensen can see the dark red staining Jared’s white t-shirt. He can see the blood trickling weakly through his and Jared’s entwined fingers clamped over the wound. It makes bile rise into his throat.

“He’s been shot!” he says without taking his eyes of Jared.

Mark kneels beside Jared while Jeffery keeps guard. He tries to detach Jensen’s fingers from Jared’s and pull them away from the wound but, Jensen flinches and holds on tighter. Jared gasps weakly.

“Jensen, I need to look at the wound.” Mark’s voice is calm and Jensen lets it tell him what to do. He removes his hand from the wound and holds Jared’s face instead. Jared winces in pain as Mark examines the wound but he is alert, scanning the area around them with his eyes. He is alive and that’s all Jensen needs for now.

“She’s still around,” Jared says. His voice is soft but, steady and Jensen breathes a sigh of relief.

“Is it Genevieve?” Jeffery asks. Jensen glances at him briefly and sees that he has his gun out and ready.

Jared nods. “She has a gun. Your gun,” the last part is meant for Jensen.

“The bullet passed through but, took a good chunk of flesh with it,” Mark says and Jensen grimaces at his cold report. He isn’t sugarcoating things. “I don’t think it hit anything but, we need to get you to a hospital and stop the bleeding ASAP.”

As he speaks Mark shimmies out of his over shirt and balls it up. He holds it Jared’s wound and asks Jensen to press on it while he removes his belt. Mark then ties the belt around Jared’s thin waist and tightens it until Jared groans a low and agonized sound. Jensen’s heart clenches painfully and he pets Jared’s hair, soothing the pain with a kiss to his lips. He feels like he is kissing Jared’s boo-boos.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s all right. I got ya.” In the face of Jared’s tear-streaked face and pained expression, he can’t be bothered about the company they’ve got.

After Mark does the best he can to stem the flow of blood from Jared’s wound, he gets to his feet and helps Jensen in getting Jared to stand up as well. Jared groans but, he pulls his weight and when he gets his feet underneath him he manages to stand steadily. Jensen feels so proud of Jared for standing strong even as Jensen feels like he is falling apart.

Wordlessly, the group starts moving forward, tracing their steps backwards to the car. Jeffery is walking ahead of them with his flashlight guiding the way while Mark brings up the rear. Jared stumbles through, wincing every now and then but, he keeps up with Jensen’s help.

When they are a few feet from where they found Jared, Jensen remembers Eric. “The writer,” he tells Jeffery. “Eric Kripke is still in the cabin.”

Jeffery gives him a brief glance and nods tightly. “Mark will take the two of you to the nearest hospital. I’ll get Mr. Kripke.”

“What about Genevieve?” Jared asks weakly.

“Back-up should be here soon,” is all Jeffery says.

The forest is silent again and the sound of a twig breaking behind them startles them all. Jared tenses up in his hold and Jensen’s heart drops to his stomach.

“No one. Is. Going. Anywhere!”

Jared’s breathing turns ragged as he holds onto Jensen. It’s Genevieve.

“Turn around!” she growls. “All of you. Turn around with your hands up.”

Jensen turns around slowly, mindful of Jared’s wound and tries to stand in front of his lover while holding him up. Mark stands between Jensen and Genevieve, partly shielding them with his own body. He has his hands raised. Jensen doesn’t know what Jeffery is doing but, he can guess.

Genevieve’s got a gun in her hands – Jensen’s Colt – held steadily, pointing towards them. The way she’s handling the gun tells Jensen that she knows how to use the weapon. _Of course, she knows how to use the weapon. She shot Jared._ White hot fury blazes to Jensen’s veins when he thinks about the gunshot wound to Jared’s abdomen. He wants to rip Genevieve’s throat out but, he knows he’s at a disadvantage. The best he can do now is protecting Jared.

“Drop your weapons,” Genevieve says, her eyes trained on the cops.

Mark raises his hands higher in a gesture of surrender but, doesn’t drop the gun he’s holding. “You know you won’t get anywhere with this, don’t you?” he asks. His voice is as calm and dull as ever like there isn’t a serial killer holding him at gunpoint.

“Oh, won’t I?”

“In the time it takes to kill anyone of us, either me or my partner will shoot you,” Mark explains. “And I’ve called for back-up. You’ve got nowhere to run.”

Genevieve smirks. “Who says I want to run?”

“She is not the serial killer,” Jared says weakly. Jensen has a brief moment where he wants to shout, _Fucking really? Even after she shot you?_ But, then Jared says, “She only wants me.”

Genevieve smiles sweetly at Jared’s voice. “That’s right. So don’t you think it’s better if you came out of your hiding spot under your boyfriend’s skirts, Jared? You don’t want me to shoot Jensen, do you? ‘Cause you know I will.”

“No!” Jared gasps and Jensen can feel him moving. He tries to hold Jared back but, Jared pulls out of Jensen’s grip and stands beside him with his hands up.

“Jared.” Jensen hisses. Jared doesn’t answer him.

“I’m what you want. Let these people go,” Jared says, his voice stronger and firmer that it had been since Jensen found him.

Genevieve’s face lights up like a Christmas tree but, then twists into a scowl immediately. “You!” she yells, pointing somewhere behind Jensen. “Drop the gun. Drop the gun or I will shoot!”

“All right. All right. I’m doing it. See?” Jeffery says. Jensen hears the thud of metal hitting the dirty forest ground.

When Genevieve turns to Jared again, Jensen moves to stand in front of Jared again but, Genevieve cocking the gun in warning stops him. “You don’t have to do this,” he pleads. He isn’t above begging right now. “Please.”

“Oh, I do, Jenny boy,” Genevieve says. Jensen sees the crazy glint in her eyes that shine like a rabid dog’s. “I love Jared.”

“And this is how you show your love?” Jensen yells.

“If Jared can’t be mine, he can’t be anyone’s. And certainly not yours. I’m going to kill Jared and you are going to watch it. You are going to know that you loving him is what got him killed. You’ll know that even though I pulled the trigger, you’re his real killer.”

“Shut up!” Jared shouts. “You want to shoot me? Fine! Do it. Stop fucking monologuing.”

“No!” Jensen shouts at the same time Genevieve levels her gun to Jared’s chest and Jared spreads his arms out like Jesus on a cross.

A bloodcurdling scream rings out through the forest, scaring even little animal and rodent in the area into hiding.

The scream is followed by loud painful moans as Genevieve arches her body backward. Her eyes are wide and agonized. Blood fills her mouth and spills out. Her nose starts bleeding just as the tears in her eyes fall.

Jensen, Jared, Jeffery and Mark, all watch frozen as Genevieve’s body levitates inches above the ground and the gun she was holding drops. Sickening cracks accompanied by jolts of Genevieve’s body reverberate in the stunned silence. Her sternum starts protruding outwards and keeps going like something is trying to break out of her. Her chest expands until the skin tears down the middle, tissue parting and blood spouting. Genevieve’s ribs crack open and expose her insides to the cold air.

“HOLY FUCKING CHRIST!” Jensen hears Mark scream.

Like the Xenomorph from Aliens a pale, ghostly hand bursts out of Genevieve’s chest and she lurches with an ear-piercing scream. The hand holds Genevieve’s beating heart in its grip, still connected to some of the arteries and veins. The bloody thing beats frantically like it’s trying to jump out of the hand holding it. Genevieve is still alive; Jensen can see the consciousness in her eyes. She is gasping hard and fast, hanging off a disembodied hand through her chest. The hand holding her heart tightens its grip and digs its nails into the soft, vulnerable muscle until it stops beating.

Genevieve slumps with one last rattling breath, her eyes wide and fixed on Jared.

And just as suddenly as it appeared, the hand disappears and Genevieve falls to the ground in a bloody, messy heap.

“Jesus Christ!” Jared whispers beside him. _That is certainly not Jesus_.

Just where Genevieve was floating in the air is a woman in a white nightdress. Only the woman is translucent and floating a few inches above the ground. Blood drips from her ethereal hand as water drips from the edges of her tattered and half burnt gown. Her body is rotting in places, dead and decayed tissue marring the white, ghostly form. Her round face is framed by dark hair and she has a lost kind of look on her face. One of her cheeks is burnt and hollow, the bone and mouth cavity showing.

She flickers a few times like TV static and then she _roars_.

“RUN!” Mark screams. Jeffery and Jensen are already on it, putting Jared’s hands around their shoulders and running as fast as Jared can.

Jensen hears gunshots ringing out behind him and he wonders if bullets can kill someone who is already dead. He doesn’t stop to find out.

Jared is panting hard in a few moments, his breaths coming ragged and wet and too fast. Jensen can feel the wetness at his side and knows that Jared’s wound grew worse during the run and is now bleeding profusely again. He knows that they won’t make it far like this.

“Jen! Jen,” Jared says urgently. “Leave me. Leave me and go.”

“NO!” Jensen growls. That is not even an option.

“Jensen, pl-please.”

Jensen doesn’t bother answering and holds Jared tighter. Jared moans weakly. He cuts a glance at Jeffery to see if he plans on abandoning them but, he doesn’t look like he does. Jensen tries to rack his brains to see if he can come up with anything about ghosts or how to deal with them. He comes up with nothing, which isn’t surprising considering the fact that until 5 minutes ago he didn’t believe that ghosts were real.

Now, he knows that it is a ghost. He knows that it is Sera’s ghost, the woman Eric Kripke was talking about. He knows that she died in a fire in Lawrence and that she wrote the script Jensen was so obsessed with. He knows that she was the one who killed Chad and Misha and Genevieve. He knows that she was the reason behind his nightmares.

He just wishes that he _didn’t_ know.

“We have to get to the cabin,” he says, steering them towards the clearing.

Jeffery’s steps falter for a moment before he catches on. “Why?” he says incredulously. Behind them he can hear Mark’s cursing.

“There’s someone there who might be able to help us,” Jensen says.

Mark isn’t firing any bullets so Jensen knows that Sera isn’t behind them but, that doesn’t mean that she is gone. Jensen now knows that the chill creeping into his bones is more than the cold night air.

The clearing is closer than the car so they break into the clearing in a couple of minutes, even though it feels like an eternity. “Eric! ERIC!” Jensen screams even as they make their way towards the cabin. Jensen’s heart is pounding in his chest and the hairs on the back of his arms are standing up. It’s more than just the adrenaline doing it. Jensen knows Sera is close.

It feels like he is tearing a limb off when he detaches himself from Jared after seating him on the front steps. But, he has to get to Eric and figure this shit out.

Jared nods shakily even before Jensen says anything. “Go. I’ll be all right.”

Leaving Jared with Jeffery, Jensen and Mark run into the cabin. They both stop dead in their tracks when they find Eric Kripke dead on the kitchen floor, lying in a pool of Misha’s blood.

“Oh my God! What’s going on?” Mark’s usually calm voice sounds manic now. Jensen himself is seconds away from losing it.

“I don’t know. Eric said something about Sera killing us all,” Jensen explains, his words coming out in a rush as he tries to figure out what to do. “He said that she wrote the script I was working on. I don’t know who she is or why –”

_Remember John, never talk to strangers!_

_Just let this script go._

_It’s just a book. Not voodoo._

“The book! The book!” Jensen runs into his room, Mark hot on his trail.

“What’s going on, Ackles?”

“I don’t know but, I know that the ghost is haunting the book. I gotta find it.”

“If the ghost is haunting the book we can leave the book here and run away!” Mark says.

“No. She killed Chad even when the book wasn’t with him. She killed Genevieve, we don’t know exactly how it is that she’s connected to the book.”

Mark screams in frustration. “Urgh! What are we going to do when we find the book?”

“I don’t know!” Jensen yells. He has emptied his bag onto his bed and is now turning the mattress upside down in search of the script. He always puts the script in his bag but, it’s not there now. “All I know is that whatever was written in the script has been coming to life. It has to be the answer to this mess.”

The flashlight that Mark is holding flickers unsteadily. Mark freezes, his eyes wide. The two of them stand in silence, waiting for the inevitable to happen. Nothing does.

“We have to get out of here,” Mark whispers furiously.

Jensen has no choice but, to agree. He can’t find the script and Jared’s bleeding out and Sera could be back any moment. He nods and follows Mark out of the room. When they are in the living room, Jensen’s eyes fall on Eric and he remembers. That morning he had talked to Eric about the script, found out that one of them was going to die. He hadn’t been bothered about the script after that, left it on the table outside when he talked to Jared. Eric must have taken it.

“Wait! I think I know where the book is.”

“Where?”

Jensen runs up the stairs, taking them three at a time. He spots Eric’s bags next to one of the bunk beds and moves towards it. He resolutely doesn’t look at Misha’s sleeping bag because if he does, he might just break into hysterics.

The book is lying right on top of one of the bags and Jensen shouts triumphantly when he gets a hold of it but, Mark doesn’t make a peep.

Jensen’s bones begin to ache from the chill in the room and he knows what he will see even before he turns around.

Sera is looking at them with her head cocked to the side, a curious expression on her pale face. She would be beautiful if it weren’t for the missing chunk of her face.

Jensen swallows hard. The book in his hands weighs a ton and feels like a live bomb. Sera sees the book and she hisses like a snake, wide lips parting to reveal two rows of decaying teeth.

It feels like getting hit by an 18-wheeler when a wall of air knocks him and Mark off their feet and sends them flying out the door to the terrace. The back of Jensen’s feet hit the low railing and he tumbles backwards. The skin of his palm tears and bursts out into blisters as he tries to find purchase on the shingled roof to break his fall.

Mark doesn’t get a chance to hold on, too startled by the knock out, and he goes spiraling down, head first when his legs hit the railing. Jensen tries to catch Mark or break his fall but, he is flailing blindly himself and he falls to the ground on his side, a painful crack in his midsection indicating broken ribs.

“Jensen!” He hears Jared and Jeffery scream as they rush towards the two men. Jensen tries to move his head so can look at Mark, see if he is okay, but his head won’t cooperate.

“Jen!” Jared gasps, falling gracelessly at Jensen’s side. He is still holding onto his bleeding wound, pale with blood loss and fear, and he winces hard when his knees hit the ground. Jared tries to pull Jensen up with one hand and Jensen screams loudly as his entire upper right side erupts in pain. It’s only then he realizes that he has broken his collarbone and probably dislocated his shoulder as well. There’s a thin trail of blood flowing down his temple, running down the back of his ear and mixing into the blood at his shoulder.

“Sorry! Sorry!” Jared says, running his hands fervently over the uninjured side. He is openly sobbing now, breath coming in hiccups.

“The book,” Jensen gasps.

Jared’s wide eyes dance around for a moment before spotting the book that has fallen a few feet away from them. He nods when he sees it. “What about it?”

“Burn it.”

Jared stares at him for a few seconds before something clicks in his eyes. He nods and starts patting his jeans for a lighter. When he finds it, he turns to Jeffery, who is out of Jensen’s line of sight, near Mark. “I need lighter fluid.”

“Where is it?” Jeffery asks. His voice is panicked but, gruff and determined.

“The cabinet under the stove in the kitchen.”

Jensen doesn’t see but, hears Jeffery race up the stairs and into the cabin. Jared places a kiss on Jensen’s temple, whispering in his ear, “I’ll be right back.”

Jared is slow getting to his feet but, he manages it and moves towards the book. The moment Jared is out of his sight, blind panic sets in Jensen’s chest. He doesn’t know where Sera is or if burning the book will destroy her and not having Jared in his close to him makes him nauseous. He thinks about Misha and Genevieve and Eric and how they died right under Jensen’s nose. He thinks of something like that happening to Jared – his heart being ripped out or his throat being slit – and Jensen would just be lying there, unable to help Jared and fucking useless.

That thought spurs him and helps him push past the haze of pain. Jensen rolls onto his non-injured side, tears springing to his eyes from the effort, and pushes himself off the ground. He stifles a pained moan and swallows bile as it rises to his throat. His head swims and his vision blurs but, Jensen pushes through it.

He is on his knees before Jared notices that Jensen is moving. “Jensen, what are you doing? Stay still.” Jared voice is worried but, very weak. Jensen can see Jared swaying where he is standing holding the book and in the pale light of dawn, he notes that Jared’s lips are turning blue. Fine tremors run through his body and Jared looks like it is taking all he has to not collapse onto the ground.

Jensen shakes his head, ignores Jared’s protests and pushes himself to his feet. He can feel his collarbone protruding out of his skin, blood flowing from the wound. His ribs poke into a tender spot inside him and his breath rattles inside his chest. But, he gets to his feet, swaying for a moment before regaining his balance. It’s easier once he gets his feet underneath him as long as he doesn’t move his right side. Cradling his right arm close to him, Jensen moves towards Jared.

The warmth that the dawn brought disappears and Jensen’s breath fogs up. Sera looks paler now, a little more faded and she flickers more frequently. _Committing murder must be tiring_ , Jensen thinks.

Jared doesn’t see the broken branch flying towards him because he is too busy trying to make sure that Jensen is all right. Jensen sees it. Jensen sees Sera’s hand fly in the air is a sweeping motion and sees the branch that flies out of the forest headed straight for Jared.

He doesn’t have time to warn Jared and even if he did, Jared wouldn’t be able to react fast enough in his condition. So, Jensen ignores the burning pain in his side, ignores the broken bones and bleeding organs and _runs_.

Jared’s eyes widen marginally at Jensen’s sudden bout of strength as Jensen’s knocks into him, putting all he has into pushing Jared away.

All the pain in his right side disappears the moment the jagged edges of the branch pierce his body. Broken bones are forgotten when the left side of his lower abdomen erupts in pain so sharp that it takes Jensen’s vision away for a few seconds.

His knees hit the ground and all the breath rushes out of his chest in a gasp. The sound of his own breathing jars his ears. He can feel his heartbeat slow down. He can feel the blood leaving his body.

All he can think about as he collapses on his side is _Jared_.

A bright white flame fills his vision and Jensen wonders if he is seeing the sunrise for the first time.

Or if he is dying.

**Scene 30**

The sterile smell of disinfectants and bandages tells him that he is in a hospital. The beeping monitor beside his bed tells him that he is alive. The hand that’s holding his tells him that he is not alone.

His eyes are crusty and weigh a ton but Jensen eventually gets them open. The shades are drawn over the windows and the door is shut, leaving the room in a soft orange glow of the tiny lamp fixtures on the wall. Jensen is instantly grateful for that. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to handle anything brighter than this. He can’t hear anything outside his room. It must be nighttime.

Jared is sleeping on a straight-backed, uncomfortable looking plastic chair with his head lying on the bed beside Jensen’s hip. His hand is holding onto Jensen’s tightly like he is trying to hold onto Jensen’s life. There’s a blanket wrapped over him – not the thin, used, hospital-standard blanket but an expensive and warm looking one. His skin looks pale in the lowlight and his hair is wild and unkempt.

Jensen tugs at Jared’s fingers wrapped around his and hears Jared let out an adorable snuffle, his dark lashes fluttering on his cheeks. Jared blinks open his bleary eyes and looks at Jensen without really lifting his head. He looks like he is still asleep – or he’s had this dream way too many times before – so Jensen lifts his hand and combs his fingers through Jared’s messy hair, smiling a little.

Hazel eyes widen – in the warm light they look more green than blue – as Jared realizes that Jensen really is awake.

“Jensen?” he whispers.

“Hey, squirt.” Jensen hadn’t called Jared that since –since forever but for some reason the affectionate nickname tumbles out of his mouth.

Jared smiles wide and bright and throws himself over Jensen, burying his face in Jensen’s neck. It’s a little hard to breathe with a 200 pound giant lying diagonally over you but Jensen doesn’t complain. He raises the IV-attached arm to stroke Jared’s back, since his right arm is in a brace, and hides his smile in Jared’s shoulder.

When Jared detaches himself, Jensen gets a good look of his face – the dark circles beneath his eyes, the IV tube connected to his hand, the hospital gown. Jared looks beautiful to Jensen’s eyes by just being alive.

“You look like shit,” he says. His voice is croaky and his throat is dry.

Jared laughs through the tears pooling in his eyes. “Yeah, well you smell like shit so I guess that makes us even.”

Jensen pulls Jared in with his good arm and kisses him chastely on the lips. Jared deepens the kiss, moaning when their tongues meet. They kiss languidly until they are breathless and Jared rests his forehead on Jensen’s.

“I thought I smelled like shit.”

“Shut up. Just –shut your goddamned mouth, Ackles.”

Jared does it for him by diving in for another kiss and this one ends faster when Jensen’s eyelids start to grow heavy.

“Sleep, Jen,” Jared whispers, his lips brushing Jensen’s as they move.

“Don’t leave.”

“I won’t.”

Everything is sharper when Jensen wakes up again – the brightness of the light, the sounds of the hospital, Jared’s smile, and the pain in Jensen’s upper body.

Jensen groans dryly as he comes to. His entire body feels like it’s on fire. He doesn’t even know what hurts the most – the hole in his abdomen he got when the tree branch impaled him or his shoulder and ribs, which he broke when he was thrown off from the second floor terrace. Jensen gives up trying to figure it out and mumbles something that vaguely sounds like “hurts”. Jared jumps into action almost immediately – literally jumping from his seat, thumbing the morphine drip twice and abusing the call button until a young, harried looking nurse comes running in.

“He’s in pain,” Jared shouts before the nurse can even get a word out.

Jensen was in pain but the morphine had started doing its job and the pain was receding now. When he opens his mouth to say that, Jared talks over him.

“It’s okay, Jen. I’m here.”

“I’m all right now,” Jensen says meekly.

The nurse smiles at him. “Glad to have you back with us, Mr. Ackles,” she says as she takes a look at the readings on the monitors. She notes something down on Jensen’s chart and turns to him with a bright smile. “Everything looks good. Do you need more morphine?” Jensen shakes his head. “All right, then. Dr. Ferris should be here with you shortly to talk to you if you are feeling up for it?” Jensen nods yes. “Excellent,” the nurse says then.

She puts Jensen’s charts down and turns to Jared with a stern look. “Jared, I thought I told you to stay in bed. You could rip your stitches out.”

Jared has the grace to look embarrassed. “Sorry. I couldn’t just leave Jensen alone.”

The nurse rolls her eyes. Looks like it’s an argument they’ve had many times over during however long they’ve been here. “At least stop jumping around like a damn puppy and sit still.” The nurse, Liane Balaban according to the name tag, gives Jensen another brilliant smile before leaving the room.

“You should go back to your room,” Jensen says.

“I haven’t busted my stitches. Stop staring at my stomach,” Jared says. Jensen didn’t realize that he was checking Jared’s hospital gown for any signs of blood until Jared called him out on it.

Jared sits back down on his chair, a more comfortable chaise this time, and puts his hand on Jensen’s. He doesn’t have an IV tube attached to him anymore but he still looks pale. “I’m fine, Jensen,” he says softly. Jensen doesn’t argue. He really doesn’t want Jared to leave him and Jared doesn’t look like he wants that either.

“How long have I been out?”

“A couple of days.”

“What happened?”

Jensen remembers finding Jared shot in the woods, Genevieve dying, her heart being ripped out of her body. He remembers finding Eric Kripke and Misha dead. He remembers Sera throwing him and Mike off the terrace after they found the book. He remembers pushing Jared out of the way when he saw Sera throwing the branch at him.

A shiver racks through his body when he thinks about Sera but it’s an instinctual response to fear. Jensen doesn’t feel Sera anymore.

“We burned the book,” Jared says. The smile he had when Jensen woke up drops off his face. There’s a hint of fear in Jared’s eyes and voice. “Morgan got the gasoline just in time and I burned it. Sera, she –she went up in flames like I was burning _her_.” Jared’s voice is near-whisper now. “I don’t know how you knew that burning the book would work but it did. It’s over.”

Jensen nods tersely. The whole memory feels distant and cold, like he had experienced the whole thing but from behind a camera lens. If only it was just a movie that he directed.

“I didn’t know it would work. Not really. I just had a hunch,” Jensen says. His eyes don’t meet Jared’s as he speaks. “The Winchesters used to burn the remains of the ghost they were hunting. That was how they get rid of the spirits. I don’t know, I-I just thought it might work. Can’t believe it did.”

When Jensen meets Jared’s eyes again, he looks even more spooked. Jensen feels the same way. _It’s over. It’s over_ , he tells himself.

An uncomfortable silence settles between the two of them – uncomfortable not because they don’t know what to say to each other but because of what they’ve seen. The silence breaks when the doctor enters the room.

“Mr. Ackles, I’m Dr. Samantha Ferris, your attending. How are you feeling?”

The dark haired woman looks like she’s 40-something. Dressed in a sharp suit underneath her white coat, heels clicking as she walks with her back straight, she has a no-nonsense air about her and smile lines around her eyes and lips. She looks motherly and tough at the same time. Jensen likes her instantly.

“I’m good, thanks. How’s Jared doing?”

Jensen can feel Jared rolling his eyes so hard that he probably sees the inside of his head. “I’m right here, you know?”

“You wouldn’t have answered me straight, anyway.”

“Jared’s doing well,” Dr. Ferris says with a knowing smile. “He lost a lot of blood and it was touch and go there for a while, I won’t lie, but he pulled through. And look! He’s already up and about, annoying the doctors and hitting on the nurses.”

“You know you are the only one who gets to stick a needle in my ass, Dr. Ferris.” Jared, the idiot, even flutters his fucking eyelashes.

Dr. Ferris snorts. “Keep that up, boy, and you’ll find out why little kids are more scared of doctors than boogeyman,” she says, clearly trying to fight a smile.

“Now, shall we talk about you?” she asks and waits for Jensen’s nod before continuing. “The branch that impaled you luckily didn’t do any serious damage to your internal organs. Our main concern was the bleeding but we were able to get it under control once we got the branch out of you. We removed any wayward splinters and patched you up. You ran a fever on the first night but we got it down with antibiotics. You are going to need to stay in bed for at least a month but other than that you should be just fine.

“As for your other injuries, your right collarbone and right arm were broken. Two ribs were fractured and five were bruised on your right side. Once again, you were very fortunate that the broken ribs didn’t do any serious damage to your lungs. We’ve put a cast on your arm and we’ll place it in a sling shortly. Your arm, clavicle and ribs should all heal themselves just fine, given time and proper rest. Anything else you want to know?”

“No, thanks,” Jensen says when the doctor is done. He resists the urge to say _phew, is that all?_

“All right then. Rest up. You are on the good stuff so you should feel no pain. Feel free to call the nurse if you need anything else. I’ll check up on you in a few hours. I also informed Detective Morgan that you were awake. He’ll be here in five minutes, said he wanted to speak to you. Will that be okay?”

Jensen exchanges a look with Jared. Dr. Ferris sees this. “I can keep him away if you don’t want to see him. There’s no hurry.”

He shakes his head. “No, I want to talk to him as soon as possible.” He needs to get answers. Dr. Ferris nods and leaves the room.

Jared rubs his cool hand over Jensen’s. “You sure you want to do this now?”

“I need to,” Jensen says. “You talk to him?”

Jared shakes his head. “Didn’t want to do it.” The _without you_ goes unsaid.

Jensen turns his palm around so he can hold Jared’s. “It’s all right. It’s over, Jared.”

He nods shakily. “Yeah. Gotta get closure, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Jen, there’s something else. Your parents… they’re here.”

Jared’s words catch him off-guard. “What? What are they doing here?”

“News got out that we were both attacked by the Highway Killer and our parents flew out to see us.”

“Your parents too?”

Jared raises an eyebrow at that. “They got here while I was still unconscious. I put them in a hotel, told them that they couldn’t see you unless you wanted them to.”

“Did my dad come?” Jensen asks in a small voice.

Jared nods yes. “They got here when you were running the fever. He looked genuinely worried. Hell, they all did.” Jared looks just as surprised and rattled as Jensen feels. He sighs and buries his face in his hands. Jensen just stares unseeingly at the ceiling.

“You think they really care?”

“I don’t know,” Jensen answers, eyes still on the ceiling. His eyes fill with tears and Jensen shuts his eyelids against them. It does him no good and he remembers the feel of his mother’s cool hand against his clammy skin when he was young and broke his arm. He remembers the way his father’s face scrunched up in badly disguised worry when he caught pneumonia at 13.

“You talk to your folks?”

“I did.” Jared laughs without any humor in his voice. “Told them that I was your boyfriend now.”

Jensen looks at him with wide eyes. “How did they take it?”

“They didn’t look surprised. Mom asked me how I was doing.” Jared lifts his head from his hands and looks at Jensen with a look of childish awe. “She actually put a hand on my arm and said, ‘He’ll be fine, sweetie.’ She might have hugged me if she thought I’d let her.”

“You think they are okay with us? My folks too?”

Jared shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

There’s wetness on Jared’s cheeks and his voice shakes a little. Jensen chooses to not mention it. “I want to talk to them.”

Jared looks only half-surprised. “You sure about that?”

“Yeah. I mean – fuck, Jare. We just found out that ghosts are real. We almost had our insides ripped out. What if we died and got stuck here because we had some unfinished business or something?”

Jared nods. “We should talk to them. Stop running. Deal with this once and for all.”

Jensen nods too. His throat closes up at the thought of facing the people that rejected him because he was gay. On top of that, he has to meet Jared’s catholic parents and face them as their previously-straight son’s boyfriend. But he knows he has to do this. This conversation with their families has been long overdue.

Before Jensen can imagine meeting his dad and freaking out about it, Jeffery Dean Morgan enters the room with Tom, Mike and some other guy in a tan hunter’s jacket and a blue trucker’s hat. Jensen tenses on seeing him.

“Look who I found loitering in the waiting room,” Jeffery says pointing to Tom and Mike.

“Man, it’s good to see you, Jensen,” Tom says, patting him on the knee. “Jared, how are doing?”

“Good,” Jared answers automatically.

“Ackles, this is my friend Jim Beaver. He’s a parapsychologist,” Jeffery says, pointing at the new fellow.

 “Parapsychologist?” Jensen asks.

“Investigating ghosts and spirits. Kinda like a Ghostbuster.”

“Jim is a close friend of mine,” Jeffery says. “With everything that’s happened we need expert help to get answers so I contacted him.”

 “Why don’t you guys sit down,” Jared says, vacating his seat so the four men can occupy the four chairs in the room. He sits on the hospital bed, next to Jensen’s head and places a hand on Jensen’s heart.

Tom pauses on seeing that and Jared raises an eyebrow in challenge. Tom shakes his head with his hands air and Mike snorts beside him. “Shut up, dude,” the taller guy grumbles.

“All right,” Tom says, clapping his hands. “The million dollar question: What the fuck happened at the cabin. Who’s gonna go first?”

“I will. How the hell do you know about what happened?” Jensen asks.

“I told him,” Jeffery says. “Tom and Mike arrived just after you passed out-”

“Just in time to see that bitch go up in flames,” Mike adds.

“They were the ones who sent me to your cabin in the first place-”

“Yeah, after we realized that Genevieve could be the serial killer that the police were looking for.”

“You told them about Genevieve?” Jared asks.

“When I called about Eric, I asked them to look Genevieve Cortese up.”

“We did and you know what we found out?” Mike asks. “Genevieve Cortese is a coma patient in the Kaiser Memorial Hospital.”

“What?”

“The woman with you was not Genevieve Cortese,” Tom says, leaning in. “We don’t know who she was – no one does. After Jeffery gave us the rundown of what happened, we talked to Jared’s assistant Katie Cassidy. And get this. Ms. Cassidy had spotted a dark-haired woman who matches Genevieve’s description hanging around Jared’s sets. She saw her once or twice at Jared’s house too. This never went reported because the woman never did anything that would be considered threatening and no one knew who she was. She’d be there one moment and the next she’d disappear.”

“You are saying Genevieve was a monster too?” Jared’s voice shakes as he speaks. Jensen puts a hand on Jared’s thigh to calm him.

“No, we don’t think so. She did bleed blood,” Jeffery says. “We just think that she was a deranged stalker who was obsessed with you. We are trying to find out more about her – looking at records of psychiatric facilities and all that. Nothing so far.”

“If Genevieve wasn’t the Highway Killer, then who was?” Jensen asks.

“We don’t know. Whoever it is, is still loose.”

“So it was all just a coincidence that I happened to pick up a crazy stalker while a serial killer is on loose and that a haunted script sort of predicted this.”

No one has an answer to that because either answer would be unsettling.

“What happened to Olsson and Kosterman?” Jensen eventually asks.

“Dead. We found them in a ditch in the forest, close to the cabin.”

All breath leaves Jensen’s lungs. “Fuck.”

“We think it was Sera.”

“Who the fuck was Sera?” Jared asks. He sounds irritated but Jensen can hear the underlying fear.

“Sera Gamble was Eric Kripke’s sister-in-law, Julian Kripke’s wife,” Tom says. “Sera suffered from schizophrenia. Her mental condition completely deteriorated about 6 years ago. She used to see her dead sister everywhere. She turned violent and almost feral. The Kripke brothers tried various treatments for her. None of them ever worked. No one knows why but they decided to stop the treatments after a year and locked her up in their house in Lawrence. They spread the story that Sera ran away to keep people off their back.”

“Now, we don’t know if they mistreated her or not,” Mike continues, “but apparently, when Sera was well, she and Julian were deeply in love. We talked to one other family member that knew about this, Kripke’s cousin, and she told us that Julian and Eric used to take care of Sera. All the letters that Ben Edlund got? They were written by Sera but mailed by Eric Kripke. Two years ago there was a fire at the house – an electrical accident. Sera died in the fire but her body was never found and the Kripke brothers never talked to the cops about her. So the death wasn’t even mentioned in the official report. A little over one year ago, Julian Kripke died in a similar fire in Sioux Falls. And that was when Eric mailed the script to Edlund.”

Jensen doesn’t realize he is shaking until Jared grips his palm tightly. “It’s okay, Jensen,” he whispers. Jensen nods but his mind is reeling with all he’s heard. He thinks of all the times he’s dreamt of fire and smoke and ashes. He remembers the screams from his nightmares like he’s hearing them on Dolby Digital Surround System. He wonders if they were Sera’s screams or Julian’s He never could tell if it was a man or a woman screaming – he still can’t.

“My nightmares...” Jensen says. “I used to dream about fire and hear someone screaming.”

Jared looks at him in shock. “Jen?” he gasps.

“Remember what I said the other night – that there was something I needed to tell you?” Jared nods, looking confused. “After getting that book from Ben, I started having nightmares. Slowly the nightmares bled into daytime and I was hearing things, seeing things when I was awake. At first I thought I was going crazy. I used to see these _horrible_ things, Jare. I used to see _myself_   doing horrible things. I can’t even –”

Jensen stops talking, covering his face with the single hand that he can move and tries not to sob like a little child. “Why me?” he asks hoarsely.

“Spirits usually target people who are… let’s say, unstable.” It’s Jim Beaver who answers. “And I don’t just mean mentally unstable. You were emotionally vulnerable Jensen. The spirit naturally attracts towards you, latches onto you. Why a ghost or a spirit does something is impossible to explain. They are angry, malevolent creatures. They hurt people but they latch onto the ones whose negative energies they can feed from”

“So the spirit just attached itself to Jensen because he was depressed?” Jared sounds furious, almost vibrating with tension beside Jensen. He’s sure Jared wants to bring the spirit back just so he can destroy it again. The thought makes him smile a little.

“Something like that. Yes.”

“That would explain why I got better after we –” Jensen cuts off with a cough and clears his throat while Jared blushes and looks away.

“Oh, please, like we don’t know that you two are doing the horizontal tango,” Tom says with a smirk.

“Shut up, asshole.”

“So that was why Genevieve got worse,” Jensen says, diverting the attention from them. “The spirit latched onto her when it couldn’t feed off me anymore.”

“It’s possible,” Doctor Beaver agrees.

“Or she was just a psycho,” Mike says.

“She said she loved me,” Jared whispers.

“Whatever it was, it wasn’t love, kid,” Beaver says softly but firmly. “What happened to her wasn’t your fault.”

“I tried to use her to make Jensen jealous. What if she got wrong signals from that?”

“Jared, Genevieve was obsessed with you long before that,” Mike says. “She staged that whole, damsel on the roadside act to get to you. She was just plain crazy.”

“They’re right, you know,” Jensen says. “What happened back there wasn’t your fault, Jared. None of it was. Got it?” Jared nods, albeit reluctantly.

“What were you doing in the forest anyway?” Jensen asks the question that had been bothering him since he found Jared bleeding in the woods.

“I thought I could take her on,” Jared says. He stares at his hands on his lap as he speaks, cheeks growing redder with each word. “I thought I could play the hero like in my movies.”

“You were confronting her?”

“Yeah. I didn’t believe you at first, Jensen. But you kept insisting that Genevieve was a serial killer and I – I don’t know. I became suspicious of her. When she took off in the middle of the night into the woods, I looked into her backpack and found some fake ids. And I knew that you were right all along. I wanted to alert you but she almost caught me going through her stuff. I had no choice but to take her head on.” Jared scoffs self-deprecatingly. “Much good that did.”

Jensen feels his face split into a wide grin, just knowing that Jared had believed him, even if it was at the very end. “Hey, you did save us all by putting that bitch on fire.”

Jared sniffs back tears before smiling. “I did, didn’t I? I’m sorry, Jensen. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you earlier.”

“You don’t have to apologize. You were just being sensible. But, hey, you weren’t wrong either. Genevieve wasn’t the Highway Killer.”

Jared nods but, then seems remembers something and frowns. “What did you guys tell the cops?” he asks Jeffery.

“We told them that Genevieve was the Highway Killer. We didn’t change much from the original story, just left out the paranormal part. She hitched a ride with you guys, killed Chad Murray, Eric Kripke, Misha Collins, Ty Olsson and Cliff Kosterman. When Jensen grew suspicious of her and contacted Tom and Mike, they contacted me and sent me to the cabin to retrieve you guys.

“My partner and I arrived to find Genevieve holding Jared at gunpoint. She managed to get a shot off but was unable to do any serious damage. In the resulting fight, Jensen and Mark got tossed off the second floor balcony. Mark cracked his skull open while Jensen was impaled over a wayward branch that fell there during the storm. While Jared and I were trying to help you, Genevieve escaped.”

“You didn’t retrieve her body?” Jensen asks, instantly on edge. “She could come back like Sera did and haunt us.”

“We didn’t bring her body to the station – can’t really explain the heart torn out of chest part. I sent men to burn her body just like the book.”

It feels cruel and inhumane to just incinerate Genevieve’s body without trying to contact her family or friends but Jensen finds it hard to believe that she would have any family or friends that would care about her. Besides, she did try to kill Jared. Jensen might be biased but he’d say she deserved what she got for hurting Jared.

“And Mark?” Jensen asks.

Jeffery takes a deep breath. He looks tired and worn out. “He is alive. He’s in a medically induced coma. He’s got some swelling in his brain and other medical stuff that I don’t understand but the doctors said he’ll make it. He’ll make it. He has to.”

Jensen didn’t offer any condolences or reassurances. He knew they would be moot.

Jeffery takes a deep breath and gets to his feet. “So I’ll go look in on Mark before I head home. I’m taking a long vacation after this,” he says. “You get some rest. Doc Ferris will have my head if I don’t let you sleep.”

Jensen smiles. “Thanks, detective. For everything.” He says, tightening his hold on Jared’s hand.

Jeffery nods. “Don’t mention it, Ackles. Although, if you wanted to name an important cop character in your next film after me I wouldn’t mind it.”

“Sure thing,” Jensen says, laughing.

Beaver gets up to leave as well. “Take care. If either of you need to talk to me, give me a call. Anytime.”

“We will,” Jared says and shakes Beaver’s hand.

“Tom, Mike, you guys coming?” Jeffery asks.

Tom nods and then turns to Jensen. “We should get going as well. I’ll come around later, okay Jensen?”

“There’s no need, man. I’ll be fine and I got this Irish Wolf Hound by my side,” he says nodding towards Jared.

“Hey!” Jared smacks him lightly on the side but he is grinning.

“I do need you to keep Danneel off my back,” Jensen says. “She’ll be all over my case, asking me what happened and I don’t think I can talk to anyone about all this mess right now.”

Tom nods sympathetically. “Will do.”

Mike puts a hand on his shoulder. He sounds genuine when he says, “I’m glad that both you and Jared are okay, Jensen. I mean it.”

Jensen knows that Mike doesn’t like him very much because of his history with Tom but he is happy to see the sentiment. “And I’m grateful to the two of you. It weren’t for you guys Jared and I would have probably been dead.”

Jared nods beside him. “Jensen’s right. Thank you guys. And you too, Morgan.”

“You don’t have to thank us,” Tom says. “You guys are our friends. I only wish we got you out sooner but you know what they say about things that end well.”

“We’ll get going now,” Morgan says and moves to the door. Beaver, Tom and Mike all follow him, giving Jared and Jensen a final glance before they leave.

Jared collapses into the chair next to Jensen and puts his head on the hospital bed. “This whole thing has been a mind fuck of epic proportions,” he tells Jensen, his voice muffled.

“You’re telling me,” Jensen mutters. He puts his gimp hand near Jared’s head and weakly plays with his hair. Jared smiles at him and gets up to sit on the bed.

“But like Tom said,” Jared says, folding himself next to Jensen, “All is well that ends well.”

“Did it end well?” Jensen whispers. “So many people have died, Jared.”

Jared’s eyes turn soft. “Don’t do that, Jen. Don’t blame yourself for what happened. It is tragic that they died but it’s not your fault. And honestly, I’m just glad that you are okay after that little stunt you pulled.”

Jensen smiles sheepishly. “Yeah, that…”

“Yeah, that!” Jared’s voice has a hard edge to it but mostly he sounds concerned.

Jensen locks eyes with Jared before speaking. “I’m not sorry I did that Jared. And I’d do it again in a heartbeat even if it meant I’d die. It was either you or me and in my mind it’s better if it were me that got hurt.”

Jared shakes his head, his eyes filling with tears. “Damn it, Jensen. What am I going to do with you!”

Jensen smiles. “You’ll find something, I’m sure,” he says before pulling Jared into a kiss.

Everything might not be well in Jensen’s world but he knew in that moment that everything would be. Everything would turn out fine as long as he has Jared.

 


	6. Deleted Scene

**Deleted Scene**

Sera rocks back and forth in place, humming a tune low in her throat, biting her lower lip in concentration. There’s a book open in front of her and there are words written on the white pages in beautiful curvy handwriting. The tip of the fountain pen scratches as it flows over the crisp page. The hand that’s holding the pen is covered in ink smudges from ink leaks and refilling. A half-empty ink bottle sits beside her.

Sera suddenly stops writing and frowns at the page like a petulant child.

“Your muse left you?” her dead sister asks from the corner she is sitting in. Her sister, Emily, forever 19, leans against the lamp, her pale form looking ghostly in the orange light.

“Mmm…” Sera cocks her head to the side and her frown deepens as the words on the pages dance in front of her. “No. No. No,” she says. She is all alone in the large, sparsely furnished room, but has company in her mind.

“I don’t want to save him,” she mumbles, whining a little. Her eyes don’t stray from the words on the page.

“Why not? He’s your favorite character.”

“He –he.” Sera shakes her head. “They both remind me of _them_.”

Emily picks at the cuticles of her nails. “Sam and Dean remind you of Julian and Eric?” she asks.

Sera nods. Her dead sister doesn’t see her but, of course, she could never see her. Emily replies anyway. “I thought they reminded you of us?”

“Sometimes.”

“You still want to kill him off?” Emily asks, this time looking at Sera with curious eyes.

Sera nods yes and then shakes her head no. Emily smiles. “You wouldn’t let me die, would you Sera?”

She looks up then and meets her sister’s soft gaze with teary eyes. “No,” she whispers.

“Save him then.”

_Dean’s eyes have been closed for the past 2 minutes. He is unresponsive._

_Sam’s vision blurs with tears as he tears down the road in the Impala, ignoring every road safety rule in his hurry to get Dean to a hospital._

_“Dean,” he calls again. His voice is broken and pleading, a little brother calling out for his big brother. Dean could never ignore Sammy’s call._

_“’m ‘live,” he slurs weakly. His eyes open in thin slits. He is slumped over the Impala’s backseat, his hand around his middle where he was shot._

_“You better stay alive,” Sam says, alternating his gaze between the rearview mirror and the empty road._

_Dean is silent for a moment too long and Sam panics. “Dean!”_

_“Thought you wouldn’t… come back,” Dean says._

_“Of course I came back, I always will. You’re my brother... And I owe you a big one for not listening to you when you tried to warn me about Ruby.”_

_“I guess I-I better stay alive to clock you one, huh?”_

_“Yeah. Yeah, you better.”_

_Sam sees the exit approaching and he tells himself ‘10 more minutes. Just hold on a little longer, Dean.’ Dean can’t leave him, not now. They were just starting to be brothers ag - ....._

The pen is dragged wildly on the page as the book gets snatched away. Sera lets out a thin, shrill shriek.

“Sera, you haven’t eaten anything the whole day. Eat your dinner,” Julian Kripke says, holding the leather bound book away from his wife.

Sera doesn’t answer and lunges to grab the book, letting out animalistic grunts. Julian holds her back.

“Eat first –hmpf” He grunts when a wayward hand hits him in the ribs. “You can write after you eat,” he says firmly.

But Sera is too far gone to hear. Tears stream down her eyes as she reaches for her book as if it were her long lost baby. Emily, the stable part of Sera’s subconscious, is gone too and now there’s no one left to reason with her.

Julian tries. He throws the book on the floor and tries to hold his wife and calm her down. He is patient with her, never holding her harder than he needs to. Sera’s arms flail wildly and she never takes her eyes off the book. Every time Julian tries to talk she shakes her head furiously, not even wanting to listen.

In the scuffle, Julian accidentally knocks over the bottle of ink and it spills all over the book beside it. The ink spreads over the open pages, soaking into the sheets and rendering them unreadable.

Sera’s eyes widen in horror and she starts to scream. She screams like she hasn’t screamed since her last and only shock therapy. The wild and feral sounds tear out of her throat as she claws at Julian’s eyes and tries to bite him. She is more of a rabid dog than a human and all her rational thought, if there ever was any, leave her.

She screams and screams and screams, watching the fruit of her hard work getting lost in inky blackness. She screams until Julian snaps.

The hand flies before Julian can even think about what he is doing and connects painfully with Sera’s cheek. It’s like the sharp smack had startled her into stillness, Sera stares at Julian with large eyes that are devoid of emotion. Julian thinks he sees fear or curiosity there, but it might just be his willful imagination.

Sera stopped being Sera years ago.

But, then, something shatters in Sera – the leash on the wild animal breaks. Before he knows it Julian is on the ground, trying to keep his wife’s snapping jaws from his throat. Sera’s blunt and clipped nails take skin with them as she rakes them over his face and arms. Julian screams for his brother and tries to restrain Sera.

Eric comes rushing in, hands still wet from handling freshly washed clothes. He catches up quickly with what’s happened and pulls Sera off his brother. Julian picks up the book and shows it to Sera, probably trying to placate her and tell her that he means no harm, but it is a mistake. Whatever he was saying gets lost in Sera’s screams as she struggles to break free of Eric’s hold.

Eric pushes Sera to a corner and both the brothers escape her clawing hands, running out of the room and locking the door behind them. Not a second later they hear Sera banging on the other side, growling and snarling like a wolf.

There used to be a time when she was one of the most soft-spoken and quiet people in the entire town.

Julian rests his forehead on the door. He is holding the book in one hand, the other palm resting on the door next to his head. He lets the tears fall, not even caring that his little brother is watching. He sobs like a child, occasionally muttering ‘I’m sorry’ to the unyielding door. The full blown sobs rack his body and make his gut clench in pain, but he cries and cries and cries until the tears dry out and the sobs turn into hiccups.

Eventually Sera’s screams die down too. Whether she got tired or turned lucid, they don’t know. Eric and Julian decide that it’s best to wait until the next morning before they open the door, just to be safe.

That night, there is a fire in the house. The fire started somewhere in the laundry room in the left side of the building. The official report states that the fire was caused by a short circuit due to a water leakage from the washing machine. Eric Kripke would say that the fire occurred because he hadn’t turned the machine off when he noticed the leakage.

Whatever the cause, the result is the same. The fire destroyed the entire house, but the two residents escaped the fire, unscathed. The death of Sera Gamble, wife of Julian Kripke, never makes it into the official report.

Her death makes it into Julian’s dreams. He dreams of fire. He hears heart wrenching, agonizing screams. He sees the tears on Sera’s cheeks, the fear in her eyes as she tries to escape a locked, burning room. He feels her pain as her flesh melts off her body.

Eventually, he starts seeing her. He sees her in the white nightgown she died in, dripping murky water from the edges. He sees her decaying body, flesh hanging off her in gory pieces. He sees the burnt skin, the wild hair and the lifeless eyes.

He apologizes every time. He tells her that he had tried to get to her room to save her. He tells her that he wishes he could have saved her.

Sera never answers.

Another fire breaks out in Eric and Julian Kripke’s home in Sioux Falls. The official reports states that the cause of the fire is unclear. _A freak accident_ , the police say. Eric Kripke would say that the fire started when his brother’s body spontaneously combusted on the ceiling.

Eric starts seeing Sera then.

The day after he has his first nightmare, Eric mails the script Sera was writing to her favorite writer – Ben Edlund.

The book survives.

~~~

**The Beginning…**

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> There will be timestamp coming very soon, showing the boys dealing with life after what happened at the cabin. So stay tuned for that!
> 
> Have you seen the artwork, yet? Go check it out [here](http://sau1412.livejournal.com/18235.html) (warning: contains NSFW images).
> 
> Comments and feedback are always appreciated.
> 
> /I have to admit this isn't really my best work. I started on it a while ago so the writing style is little different from my last fic. I'd like to believe that I have improved my skills since I started working on this story. But anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed it./
> 
> Come find me at [my tumblr](http://hafireika.tumblr.com/post/124077002207/a-film-by-jensen-ackles).


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